The Recovery
by fangirl1982
Summary: Gabrielle is in a car crash, Jack returns.
1. Chapter 1

**The Recovery**

"I've never met someone so particular about their food," Claire Anderson admitted to her friend, boss and housemate Gabrielle Jaeger on the way home from the grower's market Gabrielle frequented.

Gabrielle had to laugh at that. "I get that a lot," she said. "I used to drive Jack absolutely bonkers." She went silent and looked out the window of her car. Claire noticed she did that a lot when Jack's name came up. Gabrielle had never confided in her exactly what had happened between her and her former housemate, but it was obvious that Gabrielle missed him. She often wondered if Gabrielle's offer of a place to stay while she was recovering both physically and emotionally from being raped by her ex-boyfriend had been more than a little to do with her wanting the company, and not purely about her wanting to do the right thing by Claire.

She was grateful Gabrielle had offered her a place to stay. Following Ian's attack, Claire had found it impossible to keep living with her new boyfriend Steve Taylor, a colleague of both of theirs. Gabrielle had offered her friendship and a roof under her head – not to mention the state-of-the-art home security system that Jack had installed after moving in. That was another thing that Claire didn't understand; Jack had never struck her as someone who was particularly anal about security. But then, for all that she had liked Jack, she had always felt a little skittish around men – especially men who were perfectly capable of picking up a seventy-kilo Gabrielle and spin her around as if she were a rag-doll. That kind of strength in men had always frightened her a little.

Hell, what was she saying? _More_ than a little.

"You OK?" Gabrielle asked. A week ago she had been desperate enough to get through Claire's defences that she had gotten hold of Jack to know if he had any tips as to how to act with sexual abuse victims. She regretted it deeply. Jack had been cool towards her, and sarcastic in that way that he could be that let her know in no uncertain terms that he had no wish to speak to her.

The funny thing was, she was sure he regretted it. He of all people appreciated what Claire was going through. But she realised she had humiliated him so deeply, hurt him so much that he had lashed out at her on hearing her voice.

"Fine," Claire said. She had been just about to ask Gabrielle the same thing. For the past week Gabrielle had been down about something, and Claire wanted to know. She knew from recent experience that it wasn't good to keep things bottled up. "Just want to get home."

"Almost there." She led up at the lights near her house and waited for them to turn green before taking off again.

Coming in at a right angle to the car, a drunk-drover barrelled through the red lights on the other side of the intersection and ploughed into Gabrielle's car from the driver's side.

* * *

Jack was going over paperwork when Talia barged through the door. He knew it was her, one, because he knew her walk like he knew her voice and her laugh and her smell, and two, because only Talia dared enter his room without permission. He looked up to be met by a surly expression on her face and her holding the phone at arm's length as if the person on the other end was capable of spreading toxins and disease through the line. "It's Ben Jaeger," she said sourly, and he immediately understood her foul mood. Talia was the most possessive woman he had ever dated, and she had made her opinions clear when Gabrielle had called a week ago.

His desire to smirk at her obvious jealous streak died a sudden death when he realised that Ben would only be calling if something that incapacitated Gabrielle so badly that she couldn't call herself. He got up and retrieved the phone of Talia, giving her a steady look for her to leave the room. She did so reluctantly, and he knew from the expression on her face that he was going to pay for that later. Bad enough that Ben have the audacity to call, worse still that he insist on taking the call in private.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked Ben when he had shut the door in private.

"Charming girl, you sleeping with her?" Ben asked in his usual blunt fashion. He had thought from the second he had the way his sister and Jack grooved together as friends and housemates that they were meant to be together, and he took Talia's obvious surliness towards him as proof that even this strange woman herself knew that.

"Was it that obvious?" Jack asked dryly. "Look, I'm sorry to be blunt, Ben, but we're really understaffed here so could you get to the point?"

Ben tried not to take offense at Jack's tone. Gabrielle had briefly filled him in that Jack had ended up settling, at least for the time being, at a clinic in a remote Aboriginal community. Ben had no doubt the place was understaffed, it was difficult enough for them to get doctors and nurses to staff the small hospital in their thriving farm community, let alone a remote Aboriginal community. But he suspected the reason for Jack's bluntness was more to do with whatever falling out he and Gabrielle had had, which Gabrielle had _not_ filled him in on. But Ben wasn't stupid. It was obvious that she cared about him, and obvious that she missed him. "It's Gabby," Ben said, getting straight to the point. "She's been in an accident."

Jack felt his knees buckle and he groped for the chair he'd just been sitting in. "What kind of accident?" he asked.

"Drunk driver through a red light," Ben said, the bitter irony of it obvious in his voice. Steve was an alcoholic and Gabrielle was a very mild social drinker because of it (well, most of the time, anyway). And she would never drink-drive. The was a tragic irony in the fact she'd been in an accident at the hands of a drink-driver.

"Is she OK?" Jack asked in a shaky voice.

"No, she's not. She's – Jack, I don't know what went on between you but I know there was a time you cared a lot about her and I thought you had a right..." Ben's voice trailed off, not wanting to speak the words. _I thought you had a right to say goodbye if it comes to that_.

For Jack, regardless of what had happened between them, he couldn't just turn his back on the closeness they had once shared. "I'll be there as soon as I can. What hospital is she at?"

"St. Angela's. ICU."

"I'll see what I can do."

They hung up, and Jack immediately went to his supervisor. "You're in luck," Doctor John Parker said. He knew better than to try and talk Jack into staying. The younger man looked prepared to walk every step of the way to Sydney if he had no other option. "We need to airlift a patient to Sydney, we just need to stabilise him. When that's done, you'll have about three minutes notice."

"I'll get packed straight away," Jack said.

Parker left, and Talia glowered at him. "You're going back to _her_?" she snapped.

"Don't be like that. She's in a coma. She's hardly competition."

"She was _never_ competition," Talia snapped. "Jesus, Jack, don't you remember how she humiliated you?"

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to get it cut, but Talia liked it longer. "Yes, I remember. And I also remember that she was once my best friend. I can't just let her die and not say goodbye. Look, I'll be back before you know it and then we'll talk about the thing, yeah?" he asked, desperate to get her off his case. She kept insisting that it was stupid for the clinic with its ridiculously small budget to be maintaining bedrooms for _two_ doctors who were in a monogamous semi-longterm relationship when one would work just as well. As if wanting to save the clinic money was her _only_ reason.

"OK." Her eyes narrowed slightly the way they did when she was plotting something. "I'll come by your room in fifteen minutes."

"Talia! I need to pack."

"I know. That's what I said fifteen minutes."

* * *

Claire woke from her bedside vigil and initially thought she was seeing an apparition. "Hey," Jack said as if his presence was the most natural thing in the world.

"When did you get here?" she asked.

"A few hours ago. I didn't want to wake you. Zoe says you shouldn't even be here."

It had completely slipped her mind that the current head of St. Angela's ED used to be the 2IC at the All Saints ED. Zoe Gallagher had met Steve with suspicion that Claire didn't understand; had Steve done something to incur Zoe's wrath? "I couldn't leave," Claire said. "It wasn't right for her to be alone so Ben, Russel and I have been taking turns."

"Where are they staying?"

"Some motel. There wasn't really room at her place."

Jack had to laugh at that. "Don't tell me she couldn't be assed clearing out that third bedroom of hers and instead just gave you mine?"

"No, she cleared it out. Ben said it just didn't feel right, going through your stuff like that." Claire realised what Jack had been doing. "She always complained about her hair, said no-one could get the knots out without pulling like you could." He'd combed out her hair and fashioned it into two plaits so it wouldn't get tangled again. She frowned in concentration, thinking. That was hardly the actions of a man who didn't care.

"I had a girlfriend who's step-daughter had hair that knotted. Nothing gets your way to a woman's heart more effectively than soothing a screaming toddler," he quipped.

She smiled, then turned serious. "Any change?" she asked.

In three hours? He shook his head. By the time he had gotten here, she had been stabilised, but the damage was done; three broken ribs on her right side, one of which had been pressing dangerously against her lung. Her wrist was broken, and her right leg was broken in four places. About the only good thing was that since the car had rammed into the right side of the car, Gabrielle's right side had taken most of the damage and her heart hadn't been affected. Claire had gotten away with a nasty bruise when her seatbelt had largely restrained her and a minor concussion where it hadn't quite succeeded and she'd hit her head against the dash.

"It's not fair," Claire said. "She's been so good to me."

Guiltily, Jack remembered Gabrielle calling him to ask how was the best way to deal with someone who had been brutally sexually assaulted. He had told her to Google it. OK, so Talia had been a meter away from him at the time and it had seemed like a good idea to put a smile on his current lover's face by being so rude to – but now it just seemed childish, and he cursed himself for it. "I know," he said softly, remembering. "She told me."

Claire looked at him suspiciously. Was _that_ what the whispered phone call a week and a half ago had been about? Was _that_ why Gabrielle had been in a flat mood ever since? "She had no right," Claire said, shaking with rage, at once feeling as dirty and humiliated as if Ian had just finished his assault. "She had no right," she repeated.

"Hey, no need to be upset."

"Of course I'm upset! You have no idea what I went through!"

"I was sexually abused for two years when I was a teenager," he found herself admitting to her. Not that it really mattered now who knew; his life here in Sydney was over, at least for the time being. "She just wanted to know if there was anything she could do – anything that had helped me feel more comfortable about people that she could do for you." Because that was the kind of person she was, Jack remembered, despite the circumstances under which they had parted.

"Oh," Claire said flatly, processing the information. Well, that explained why he was so anal-retentive about security, at least. "What did you say?"

"I told her to Google it and then hung up on her so I could get my new girlfriend's approval," he admitted shame-facedly.

Part of her wanted to ask Jack what had happened between him that he would respond so rudely to a humanitarian request for help, but a bigger part wanted to know how he had gotten over the horror of his own abusive past. "I slept around a lot," he admitted. "I made myself feel like a man by proving that I was the straightest guy I knew. Eventually, I went to therapy and dealt with a lot of stuff."

"Do you ever get completely over it?" she asked, thinking that if Jack, who seemed so at-ease with himself could, then maybe –

"I don't know."

She looked at him squarely. "Did _you_?"

He squirmed. "No," he admitted. "Not completely." He watched as Claire's face scrunched up in despair and she started to cry. "But my situation is a lot different to yours. I was thirteen and a virgin and it went on for two years and I didn't have anyone who cared about me the way Steve and Gabrielle do about you. You've known that sex can be fun and loving and respectful, I didn't. That was the biggest thing I had to get over." Something he had never fully gotten over. And then someone like Gabrielle could come along and take all his progress and throw it away and make him feel dirty and ashamed all over again. "Claire, you'll be OK eventually," he said in a soft, reassuring voice.

She was sobbing now, letting out all her repressed grief and shame, and he found her sitting in his lap, her arms around his neck, needing his comforting presence. He wasn't comfortable with it – he barely knew her, and he was well aware that she was Steve Taylor's girlfriend – but he didn't have the heart to push her off. God knew that if she could get past her intense fear of being touched to cling to him like this, it had to be serious. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her back. "It'll be OK," he repeated over and over. Her sobs gradually quietened and she seemed to take comfort from him knowing what she was going through, so he let her stay there.

"Sorry," she sniffled when several more minutes had passed and she was composed enough to get out of his lap. She felt a flash of guilt that she couldn't stand to let Steve touch her, yet there she had been in Jack's arms, in far closer proximity than she had allowed Steve since the attack.

"You don't need to feel bad about anything," he said, sensing her thoughts. "You've been through this massive trauma. Hell, you should have seen me after one of my counselling sessions. She seemed to think she hadn't done her job if she hadn't made me cry. What you're feeling is OK. And you don't need to feel bad that you don't like Steve touching you, either. You've had something very personal taken from you by force. I'm sure even Steve doesn't expect you to be ready for intimacy straight away."

"You don't like him much, do you?" In the brief time she had worked with Jack, she had been aware that the two men had a hearty dislike of one another, although Steve had never said why. Or, rather, he had said that Jack was a prat who looked down on anyone who wasn't Sydney born-and-bred, which was not something that Claire had found about him.

"No." She mistook his glance at Gabrielle for concern for the woman, and not an explanation for his dislike of Steve. She wondered if Steve had looked at her like that while she had been unconscious, so concerned, so loving. It was obvious that he still cared for her deeply, but it was just as obvious that something had happened between them that resentment still simmered. _Love and hate_. She wondered how the two emotions could exist side-by-side, and was glad that she and Steve didn't have to deal with such complication.

She noticed that his bags were parked on the floor next to him; he must have come straight over. "You got somewhere to stay?" she asked.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," he admitted. It had been less than twelve hours since he had found out about Gabrielle's accident and all he had thought about was getting to Sydney and her bedside before something happened. He couldn't bring herself to face up to the fact that she might die. "I'll look at checking into a motel. If all else fails, I know Dan hasn't rented his house out yet."

"Why don't you come back to our place – I mean, Gabrielle's, your old place?" Claire suggested. "You're room's still exactly as you left it, and to be honest, I don't feel very safe by myself. I could do with having someone else in the house."

He was too tired and distracted to concentrate on another option. "Fine," he said. "I don't have my key, though." He had all but thrown it in her face when he'd suggested she could give it to Steve, since that was clearly what she wanted.

"I've got both of them at the moment. Call me paranoid," she admitted guiltily. When the personal belongings Gabrielle had had on her had been processed, Claire had been adamant about having the second key. The idea of someone being able to get into the house – as unlikely as it was – scared the crap out of her. She fished around in her bag for it and handed him the key. "You look tired," she said. "Maybe you should head home, get some rest."

He shook his head. "If you don't mind, I'd rather be alone with her," he said. She nodded slightly and left him to it.

With Claire gone, he let go of the emotions he was holding in and started to cry. She looked terrible. Her entire face was badly bruised from where she'd hit her head on the steering wheel, the left side badly lacerated from the impact. He could see where her ribs had been taped up through the thin hospital nightgown, and her entire left leg was encased on plaster. Her fingers stuck out from the bulky cast on her hand. Zoe had taken him through her injuries, admitting that someone less physically healthy – not to mention congenitally stubborn – wouldn't have gotten this far. He knew he should take cold comfort out of the fact she was stable, but seeing her looking like such a mess, knowing how long a period of healing – even rehabilitation – she had in front of her should she wake up broke his heart.

It wasn't fair that Gabrielle of all people, who had dedicated her life to healing people, who had taken so much shit from a man who didn't care how his action affected her, should be so close to death at the hands of someone who had been drunk at five in the afternoon. It wasn't fair that he had loved her and his parting words had been so cruel. That didn't matter now.

He took her hand and bawled shamelessly, now that no-one was around. "I love you," he said. "Please don't die before I get to say that. You're the only person who knew how to love me. Who's going to love me if you die?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Claire, it's only me," Jack called as he entered the front door to the house he had once shared with Gabrielle. It was so familiar that it was eerie. He hadn't thought he would ever be back here, certainly not so soon.

Claire came out of the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour," she said. "I'm not nearly as good a cook as Gabrielle, but I can do some decent stuff with a recipe base."

"Sorry, I told Ben I'd have drinks with him. I wasn't sure how you felt having him in the house, so I figured it was best if I went out."

"That's sweet." It wouldn't occur to many people that someone in Claire's state of mind would be uncomfortable having strange men in the house. And she _did_ find Ben a little intimidating, he was so exuberant and thought nothing of grabbing her hand or arm to make a point. She knew he didn't mean anything by it, but that didn't make it any easier to handle. "Do you have time for coffee?"

"Sure."

She made them coffee, and they sat down on the couch together – the same couch, Jack remembered, that Gabrielle had cuddled up to him so many times in the past. Claire noticed the look on his face – _wistful_. And she noticed that he'd been crying. Those weren't the responses of someone who hated someone's guts. "Tell me about this girlfriend of yours," Claire prompted, hoping to get the conversation onto something cheery. God knew, they could both do with cheering up.

Jack smiled at the thought of Talia and dug his wallet out of his pocket for a photo. "She's bi-racial," Claire noted. And beautiful.

"Part Aboriginal, part vampire," he said dryly. Claire looked blank. Jack tugged at the top button of his shirt and pulled it to one side to reveal bite marks along his collarbone.

"Bloody hell," Claire breathed. "Is that her idea of showing affection?"

"Kind of. She's somewhat possessive. But honestly, it's nice. It's been a while since I had someone be possessive over me. Usually it's me working my ass off trying to make them love me."

There was a bitterness in his voice that Claire knew was about Gabrielle."If you don't mind me asking – what happened with you and Gabrielle? It's just – I know you guys used to be really close and then you just left and I _know_ she's upset about it. Sometimes your name will come up in conversation – something you did, something you liked – and I know she's thinking about you and she's sad. I just don't understand how something can go so bad so quickly."

"Did she ever tell you anything?" Jack asked.

"Only that it was her fault. I know she wanted to make it up to you."

"You can't make up for something like that. You can't make someone forget something like that."

"Something like _what_?"

Jack sighed and thought about that night. Well, if she wanted to know, there was no harm in telling her. "The night I left – actually, the reason I left, I had intended to stay in Sydney for at least a few more weeks – we were both pretty upset about Ricki. We drank a lot and – well, the thing is, there'd been something building between us for a while, since before I moved in, I think. Or at least I _thought_ it had been building up for a while. We had a lot to drink and we were both really upset and needed each other. We ended up in bed together and..." he closed his eyes, remembering. "We had this great connection and it was so amazing. I mean, I know part of it was just needing to be with someone after learning about Ricki but part of it was just _us_, this wonderful bond that we had – or that I thought we had – and it was the most incredible time of my life... right up until she called me Steve." He scowled, remembering. "I never thought I could be made to feel dirty and humiliated and used after sex the way Patrick did, but... she managed it. And just to make things super-fun, she gave me Chlamydia. You'd think she'd have the good sense to get herself tested, but no. And I know I only have myself to blame. I keep falling for women who are in love with someone else and keep hoping if I love them enough, they'll come around... and all that happens is I get my heart broken."

Claire processed the information, then looked at Jack in confusion. "I don't understand," she said. "What's Steve got to do with it?"

Now it was Jack's turn to look confused. "You don't know?" he asked. He had just assumed that when Steve and Claire had started dating, he had been upfront with her about the fact he and Gabrielle had been together for several years in the past. Claire shook her head. "Oh, Jesus, I wouldn't have said anything if I realised you didn't know."

"Know _what_, Jack?" Claire asked.

"It's not my place to say."

"Damn straight it isn't. But you've already said something, so you may as well spill."

Jack looked ready to refuse her, but Claire stared at him with such conviction that he decided it was best to tell her. She was entitled to know anyway, and Steve had no-one but himself to blame if he had thought he could keep something like that from her. He was surprised he had kept it from her for this long; that Steve and Gabrielle had been together wasn't exactly a state secret, you'd think someone would have let it slip by now. "They were together for a long time, at least a couple of years. They got back together briefly at the end of the year before last. I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Everyone else does."

Claire felt herself grow hot with anger. Here she had been thinking Steve was so perfect, so uncomplicated, when he'd been hiding a long-term relationship with Gabrielle – her boss, her friend – from her. "No," she said in a small, tight voice. "I didn't know."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to say."

"You're right," she said sadly. "It wasn't But you were the only person who would tell me. Steve should have." Jack couldn't disagree with that. He didn't try to fill the silence with inane babble while Claire processed the fact that her boyfriend and friend, housemate and boss had once been involved. "How long were they together for?" she asked.

"I don't know exactly. I know it was several years and since she was sixteen at least."

Claire looked at Jack, trying to process the reality of the maths. "She's only a few years older than me," she said flatly. "And he's almost fifteen years older than me. So he's got to be –"

"He's ten years older," Jack offered, following her logic. He saw her shiver with disgust when she realised that if they had been together when she had been sixteen, then he had been twenty-six at the time. It might have been legal, but it was definitely immoral.

"Is that why you don't like him?" Claire asked. "Because of how she feels about him?"

"That's part of it. I don't like the way he's treated her over the years – sleeping with her at that age was just the tip of the iceberg. He slept with her best friend, that's why they broke up in the first place. And I know he's been violent towards her. She has a scar on the back of her head here –" he rubbed his hand on the back of his head to demonstrate " – from when he got a bit rough with her in the back of his ute. He could have cracked her skull and she forgave him. I know most of it was because he was drinking, but... I just don't understand why she kept putting up with it. Sorry," he added, realising he was talking to someone who herself was from a broken home.

"It's OK." She was used to people making broad statements about victims of abuse – that she had asked for it, that she had lacked the smarts to leave – that she didn't take it personally anymore, although it was sweet of Jack to be aware of his faux paux. "Wait – what do you mean – because he was drinking? _Jack!_" she addressed him in that same tone she had used when getting the truth of Gabrielle and Steve's relationship out of him.

"Claire –"

"I have a right to know."

"Steve's an alcoholic," Jack told her. "Gabrielle didn't tell me much but I know he's hurt her when he's been drinking. Didn't you notice? He never drinks."

She never drank – seeing Ian's violent, abusive side come out after a few drinks had sworn her off the stuff – so she had never noticed. "I thought I knew him," she said.

"He might have changed," Jack said.

"Maybe," Claire said dully. But that didn't really matter, did it? What mattered was that Steve hadn't told her, either about his relationship with Gabrielle or his history with alcohol. He _knew_ honesty mattered to her more than anything else, knew that something like that was going to upset her, but he had kept it from her and allowed her to find out through Jack. "Why wouldn't he tell me?" she asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he thought, given your own past, you'd react badly. Maybe he cares about you too much to risk that."

"If he cares about me, he should have been honest," Claire flared. "Especially about something like _that_." Jack couldn't argue with her.

"Claire, I'm sorry. I wish I could say something to make it up for you."

She smiled brightly through her threatening tears. "You're not the one who has to make it up to me," she said. "But I appreciate it, Jack. I feel like I can trust you. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I could be of help. Listen, I gotta get going – I told Ben I'd meet him at eight – but you have my number, yeah?" Claire nodded. "Call me if you need me for anything – and I mean anything, even if you just feel a bit skittish being alone."

"I appreciate that."

Jack went to meet Ben for drinks, and realised how much he had missed the younger man. The two had hit it off immediately – Steve had always looked down on Ben for being too young, too immature, but Ben was the same age as the sister that Jack adored so he found connecting with him no problem. There was a straight-shooting frankness about him that Jack liked, although it was difficult to avoid the questions about Gabrielle. It seemed Ben had had his heart set on Jack as a brother-in-law. Ben was especially curious as to know what had gone on between him and Gabrielle now that he realised why Gabrielle and Steve had broken up – because Steve had slept with her best friend. Since he had found that out, he had looked back on the camaraderie Gabrielle and Jack had shared wistfully. Jack had seemed absolutely devoted to Gabrielle. Ben wanted to know what had gone so wrong between them, but Gabrielle had refused to say. And now Jack was, too.

But he knew better than to press the older man, and the two kept the conversation light, although behind the light conversation was a shared worry over Gabrielle. But there was nothing they could do, and the fact she was stable and enjoying the best medical treatment the country could offer was some consolation.

A few hours passed, and when Jack let himself into the house it was close to midnight. "Just me again," he called through the house. There was no reply, and since it was close to midnight, he assumed Claire had gone to bed. He was wrong, finding her on the couch with a glass of something he doubted was water and her eyes red from crying. "Babe, you OK?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "Did something happen? Did Ian find you?" Unlikely, since Claire's official address was still her own home, not even the hospital formally knew that she was staying with Gabrielle, but someone like Ian could always track her down. He only had to wait for her at the hospital and follow her home. It was scary how easy it was to prey on someone.

"I asked Steve to come by and confronted him about what you told me. He admitted to all of it – even about cheating on her and hitting her head."

Jack sat down beside her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Why? You don't like him."

"No... but I like _you_, and I don't want to see you take too many hits. This is me you're talking to, remember? I know there's only so much crap you can take before you have a breakdown. Here." He gently pulled her into his arms. She didn't flinch or protest.

"Why are you being so nice?" she asked. He was a little saddened by that; she deserved better than thinking that someone who respected her need for privacy and understood her need for support was 'nice'. That wasn't nice, that was human decency.

"Because I know what it's like to be made to feel like nothing and feel like you have no-one to turn to. If I can make you feel a little bit better and safer, then that's more than anyone ever did for me, and that makes me feel good."

She actually found herself laughing. "So you're in it for yourself?" she teased.

"Something like that."

He let her fall asleep in his arms and then carried her to her bedroom. She was wearing tight jeans and a figure-hugging top that was no doubt being supported by a constricting bra, and his first thought was to at least unclip her bra so it didn't cut across her chest while she slept. He rejected the thought. He was no doubt Claire would be far more comfortable waking up in discomfort then knowing Jack had touched her intimately, no matter what his reasons had been, while she had been unconscious.

"Steve," Claire mumbled in her sleep. Jack tried not to feel resentful. What was it about the guy that inspired such devotion from women?

The next morning, Claire greeted Jack shyly after a shower. She was now dressed in tracksuit pants and a t-shirt. "Hi," she said. "Thanks for putting me to bed."

"No problem," he said. "You didn't sleep too uncomfortably?" She looked confused. "I thought about undoing your bra than I figured you'd be more comfortable," he explained. Claire understood exactly what he meant.

"Jack?" she asked him tentatively after breakfast.

"Yeah?"

"You said yesterday – that she gave you Chlamydia."

"Yeah." He knew where she was going with this, but had made a decision that she had to make her point herself. No-one ever escaped a cycle of violence by letting others, no matter how well-meaning, make their choices for them.

"And she got it from Steve?"

"Yeah."

"So does that mean...?" She felt like slapping a usually-insightful Jack when he just looked at her, waiting for her to go on. "Should I be tested?" she finally asked flatly. There. She had said it.

"If you've had sex without a condom with someone then yes, you should be tested."

He sounded like a clinician, not a friend. "Damnit, Jack!"

"Don't yell at me! You know the answers yourself, Claire! You've always known! I'm here for you, OK, but don't rely on me or anyone to work out the home truths. You have to do that for yourself."

They were interrupted by Jack's phone going off. He answered it quickly. "Zoe," he said. "Yeah, I'm a total contact-details hoarder. I don't delete numbers until my memory bank tells me I have to. So how is she? Really? OK, We'll be right over?" He hung up the phone, leaving Zoe Gallagher with no idea by which Jack meant 'we'.

"That was Zoe," Jack said. "Gabrielle's awake."

* * *

"She'll recover fully," Zoe said in a flat voice that conveyed anything but the joy they should all have been feeling. "But it will be a long rehabilitation. Her left side had been so badly damaged that it's like a kind of paralysis. It will be at least a month before she can use her left arm again, at least two before she can use that leg again. And because those are both compounded by her fractured ribs – she will need a lot of care to recover."

"We can provide it," Russel said, determined to do anything to make his little girl better.

Zoe had long since forgotten how many times she had heard those words in that tone. Parents who thought sheer love could make their children better. It didn't matter if they were young parents to a newborn or elderly to a twenty-something, they always acted the same way. "I don't think you understand," Zoe said. "I worked with Gabrielle. She's the most stubborn, proud person I've met in my life."

"Gets it from her dad," Russel interjected.

"Maybe so. My point is – I've watched Gabrielle work herself into a shadow and take on two people's work rather than admit she needed help." Jack remembered that, too. Or rather, he had been told about it. Gabrielle had taken responsibility for Steve's departure and tried to take on both their jobs. "She can have a carer and most likely she'll expend all her energy convincing them she's fine, then drop dead of exhaustion."

"I can take care of her," Russel insisted, just as stubborn and proud.

Zoe had long since perfected a look that had most parents realising their shortcomings. "I understand you're recovering from a heart attack," she said. "Your daughter needs expert medical attention. She won't get it from you," Zoe said bluntly.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting we put her in a care facility."

"What is she saying?" Russel asked Jack.

"She's saying she recommends Gabrielle be institutionalised," Jack explained.

"No," Russell said flatly.

"Knowing the woman Gabrielle is, she won't recover unless she has someone who knows her well enough to anticipate her moves – or has round-the-clock care from a facility," Zoe tried to explain.

"I don't care. She's too proud to go into one of those – _homes_," Russel said.

_She won't recover unless she has someone who knows her well enough to anticipate her moves_. The words struck a chord in Jack's brain. Despite what had happened between them, despite how badly she had hurt him, humiliated him... he knew how she thought, how she worked. He knew her pride, her strengths, her weaknesses. As she had known his. It was why they had made such an amazing couple. Or, rather, would have. No-one knew her like he did – not even her father or brother, he was sure. And God knew, he owed her some bullying for all that she had done in making him face up to his own demons. And he had the medical training that Gabrielle needed in a carer.

But the there was Talia. He knew there would be hell to pay if he stayed longer in Sydney than what it took to say goodbye. For a few moments, he found himself weighing up what each woman meant to him.

"I'll do it," he volunteered.

* * *

"Jack, I know how you feel about Gabrielle – " Ben started.

"Do you?" Jack asked.

"I know something happened between you that you ran away to wherever it was."

"And whatever happened, Ben, I'm not going to turn my back on her when she needs me."

"What _did_ happen?" Ben asked.

"None of your business."

"Jack! You guys had something really special. If something went so wrong that you ran away –"

"I did not run away, I was planning on leaving anyway," Jack protested.

"Fine. Whatever. If something went so wrong that you didn't want to speak to her, don't you think that could cloud your judgement?"

Jack's eyes flashed. "I hope you're not saying I'd hurt her just to get back at her."

"Of course I'm not. It's just –"

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and gave Ben a look that reminded him so much of Gabrielle. Ben wondered if they were naturally two equally stubborn, proud souls, or if living together had made them develop their proud, stubborn streaks in sync with one another. "In case you haven't noticed, you and your dad aren't in positions to properly take care of yourselves, let alone someone who needs the care Gabrielle does. But if you don't want my help, stick her in home care." He started to walk off.

Ben chased after him. He didn't understand why Jack was doing this but knew neither him or his dad were in a position to look such a gift horse in the mouth. His father was recuperating from his heart attack slowly, and worrying about her would do him no good. He liked and trusted Jack; they both did. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doubt you. We're grateful, we really are. When can you start?"


	3. Chapter 3

The doorbell rang, and Jack padded barefoot through the house to answer it. The door now had a peep-hole which meant they didn't even have to open it to see who it was, and Jack checked it. His face broke into a wide grin when he saw it was Charlotte and he hurried to undo all the locks. "Hey," he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. He let her go so he could let her and Zach in.

Zach was at an age where every six months made a noticeable difference in his size. "Wow, soon you're going to be too big for me to lift," he said to the little boy that he adored.

Charlotte laughed. "I doubt that. I've seen you swing Gabrielle around like she weighs as much as one of Zach's plush toys. Anyway, I came to invite you for a drink."

Gabrielle was being released from hospital in two days, and after that, he would be her primary carer. Russel had employed a part-time nurse who's job was to take care of bathing and toiletries over a three-hour block, as much to give Jack a few hours a day to himself as to give Gabrielle what dignity she could be afforded, given she would give any nurse the run-around if she could. "Sounds good, just let me put on my shoes."

She drove the three of them down to Cougars, and Jack spent a few minutes just wandering around, remembering. So many nights when a group of them had ended up here after work. Formal staff debriefs had never been for them; they nutted it out over drinks after the shift was over. He was surprised at how much he had missed the place.

But that, he remembered, had been before everything had changed. He was glad now he had left when he had. It wasn't just how Gabrielle had hurt and humiliated him, it was Erica's death and Dan's returning to his parent's home. So much had been lost. He was glad he hadn't had to pick up the pieces. "Thinking about something sad?" she asked.

"Yeah. Erica."

"It must be hard, being back here. Where did you end up at?" Charlotte asked.

"This Aboriginal community close to the border," Jack explained. "It's... challenging."

"Sounds like code for frustrating," Charlotte teased.

"No, it's not. It's... eye-opening," he said, knowing to Charlotte that sounded like another code for 'frustrating'. "I never knew living conditions could be so bad in parts of Australia. People are going blind because of easily curable eye diseases and getting sick because of contaminated water. You can improve the quality of life so much by doing so little. And there's so much ignorance – not only ignorance, but... in so many communities they've picked up the worst of both cultures, the sense of patriarchy that the elders are always right no matter what, along with our alcohol and STDs and what have you. It can be sad, too."

Charlotte couldn't remember the last time she had seen Jack this passionate about anything, let alone medicine. Going away had done him the world of good. It seemed to have given him some perspective, too.

"No, that would be my girlfriend, Talia," Jack admitted. "You think I'm passionate? You should hear her carry on. She hit the ground running as an activist when she was about thirteen when Mabo hit the courts and continued on from there."

"She's Aboriginal?"

Jack had to laugh at that. Back in the community, he was one of half a dozen white people, most of which helped make up the clinic staff. That anyone he dated there would odds-on being indigenous was obvious to anyone who understood the racial makeup, but a shock to his friends in Sydney. "Quarter caste, I think. I'm not sure even she knows. I know her dad's white and her mum is no more that half-caste."

"You've met her dad?" Charlotte asked.

"God, no." Jack said that in a tone that told Charlotte the subject was best dropped. There were still far too many white men out there who considered Aboriginal women fair game sexually.

She changed the subject onto something she was much more curious about. "What's going on with you and Steve?" she asked. "He's been acting like a bear with a sore foot these days, claiming you managed to ruin his life after being back for just a day."

Jack shrugged. If Steve hadn't been upfront, he had no-one but himself to blame. "I told Claire about his drinking and history with Gabrielle without knowing he hadn't told her himself," he admitted. "If the guy thought he could seriously get away with keeping something like that from her when so many people already know – he should have told her upfront, anyway."

"Go a little easy on him, Jack. You of all people must know how hard it can be to tell someone like that." When Charlotte had become 2IC, like Zoe before her she had been filled in on Steve's alcoholism as well as Jack's history of abuse. The two men were fine doctors but needed to be kept away from cases which might cloud their judgement.

Jack laughed ruefully at that. "Talia's had a rough life," he said. "She's beautiful and part-Aboriginal and, well – " He didn't have to finish that sentence. "I was a handy outlet to blame for every white man who ever screwed her over." They both knew he meant that in every sense of the word. "I took it for as long as I could and one day we had this massive slanging match about who had had the shittier childhood. We ended up resolving it in bed." He thought for a second, remembering. "I never thought I could be happy with someone who knew about that part of me."

"You mean Gabrielle," Charlotte said insightfully.

Jack looked at her sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You left the day after we found out about Ricki," Charlotte said. "At first I thought it was because of that. I didn't blame you, if I had already quit, I would have run away too."

"I did not run away!" Jack almost yelled. "I was leaving anyway."

"Let's not quibble over semantics. I thought it was about Ricki – then Claire said something. She wanted to know what had happened between you and Gabrielle. She seemed to think that since I was a good friend of both of yours, I would know. All I knew was that Gabrielle knew about what happened to you – and yes, she told me when she knew Frank had told me, so wipe that surly look off your face – so I thought maybe that had something to do with it. That, and Steve."

"What's Steve got to do with it?" Jack asked even more sharply. Charlotte knew from his tone that she was onto something.

"She has a history with him... and something special with you." _Special enough that you came back when you heard she was critically injured, _Charlotte thought. You didn't leave a girlfriend you were crazy about – and from what Jack had said of her, he and Talia were pretty even matched in intellect, passion, and temper, which _had_ to mean they were pretty crazy about each other – to rush to the side of someone critically ill if you weren't a little crazy about them, too. "I can imagine that's pretty frustrating." Actually, she didn't have to imagine. Spence had had something special with her...but a history with Somalia. "Jack, what happened? You guys had something special and then one day you just left and no-one would have known where you were had Mike not let it slip." Jack had needed the older man for a reference when he decided to start working at the clinic.

Jack found himself telling Charlotte everything. After all they had been through together, of all things, they had ended up in a kind of brother-sister relationship. (He found it best to tell Rebecca she was an ex; she didn't like anyone encroaching on her 'sister' turf.) "I've known you to try much harder to exorcise the memory of an ex love," Charlotte said mildly. She understood why Jack felt so hurt and humiliated, but she saw the bigger picture. Gabrielle and Steve had been together since she had been a teenager, and first loves, as Jack had discovered with Terri, were hard to get over. Nonetheless, Charlotte believed that Jack and Gabrielle had a specialness that went beyond whatever history Gabrielle shared with Steve.

Jack shrugged. The year or so that he had spent making an ass of himself over Terri Sullivan was best left forgotten, in his books. "I'm four years older physically and about twenty years older emotionally. When I was twenty-four, I was young enough and arrogant enough to believe that all I needed to outrun a dead man was being alive. I realise now that when her heart is set, there's no competing, and I won't make an ass of myself trying anymore."

_Pity_, Charlotte thought. She hadn't met this Talia, but something told her that as intelligent and passionate as she was, she couldn't compete with that something special that Jack and Gabrielle had.

* * *

"Claire! Claire!"

Claire wasn't due home for another two hours. Jack rushed into Gabrielle's bedroom. "What is it?" he asked.

"I want Claire."

"Claire won't be home until eight, what is it?"

She glared sullenly. "Nothing. I can wait."

He was well used to Gabrielle's sullenness, and stubbornness. "Do you need a bedpan?" he asked. The nurse she had for a few hours during the day took care of a lot of things, but she couldn't control bodily functions.

She glared even more sullenly. "No."

He got her a bedpan. Once her wrist was healed, she would be able to get by on crutches and be a lot more independent of his – or her nurse's – help, but for the time being... "I thought this was beneath you doctors," she spat, because spite was the only way she could get a leg over Jack in the humiliating, dependant position that she was in.

"Work in a clinic in a remote Aboriginal community for four months and you find that _nothing_ is beneath your dignity, as far as saving lives goes," he said. "You don't need to be embarrassed. I've seen you naked before."

Yes, she remembered him seeing her naked before. She had been crazy about him, totally attracted to him, had loved him in spite of – or maybe because of – everything he had had to overcome. And yet at the exact moment he had needed to know that, she had said the wrong name. He had left too quickly for her to explain that loving Steve for so long, it was as much an ingrained habit as biting her nails – something she had done for longer than she had loved Steve. When he had sent her a letter, as cold as they could get, that he had Chlamydia and she should get checked, her heart had broken for him. How did you say you were sorry in those circumstances? How did you say you were sorry to someone as proud as Jack?

He removed the bedpan, and she dressed as best as she could. She turned her head away from him when he came to face her again. "You have no idea what it's like to not be in control of your own body," she said bitterly, thinking only of herself and her own pain.

"I think you'll find I might."

"Oh, save me your crap about losing your heart to someone in love with someone else," she snapped, too embarrassed and too weak to think any further than her own pity.

"I didn't mean that," she said, and she buried the right side of her head, feeling even more embarrassed now that she remembered Jack had been sexually abused for two years as a teenager. She felt hot tears slide down her face, all the more hotter that she had taken a dig at Jack without meaning to.

"Here." Jack tilted her head so it was facing the ceiling and wiped her face. "It's OK. I've worked with more cases of sexual abuse in the last four months than I did in four years at All Saints. I realise now how lucky I was. It doesn't bother me anymore."

She sniffled, but didn't try to turn her head away. "Claire says you left a girlfriend behind."

"Yeah. Her name's Talia." Jack found himself bringing out a photo of her. "She's been abused by whites and Aborigines," Jack explained quietly. Gabrielle understood just by looking at her. To whites, she was Aboriginal. To Aborigines, she was white. She was fair game for both races. "We understand each other."

She stared at this photo of a woman who should, by anyone's standards, be a knockout beauty, and she understood why Jack was over her. Talia was beautiful, no doubt intelligent, and she and Jack understood each other's history of abuse. "I'd like to be alone now," she said abruptly.

"OK, I'll go," he said. He left her to think about herself, Jack, and everything that had happened, and wishing that she could take it back, hating that she couldn't.

* * *

"Jack! I can't believe you didn't tell me you were back!" Rebecca admonished him.

Jack smiled ruefully and wondered who had let it slip. But then, Rebecca had a way of finding things out. "Come in," he said, opening the door to let his sister in. "It's good to see you. You look well."

"So do you," she said. "A little less anaemic,"

He poked his tongue out at her. She had always rode him about how pale he was. He couldn't help that; he spent a _lot_ of time indoors. At least, he had. Now he spent a lot of time running around after patients, spending a lot of time outdoors, and it was showing on his skin. That, and he looked more at ease, Rebecca noticed. She remembered when she had last seen him; he'd been sliding into a deep funk from losing a patient, and losing that friend of his had made it worse. She had tried not to take it too personally when she had received a letter from him postmarked from somewhere she'd never heard of, telling her that he was OK but that he needed to be left alone.

And now here he was again. She had run into Charlotte at the supermarket, who had let it slip that Jack was back and filled her in about Gabrielle's injuries. Rebecca had been intrigued. She had always thought Jack and Gabrielle had something special, but when she had tried to find out what the older woman knew about Jack's disappearance and whereabouts, Gabrielle hadn't known anything – or at least, had _claimed_ not to know anything. Rebecca had thought something was up, but the more she had pressed, the more Gabrielle had shut down.

Rebecca wandered through the house like she owned it and helped herself to the beer Jack had put in the fridge. He smiled at that. Same old Rebecca, _what's yours is mine_. "I missed you," he said.

"I missed you, too. Now, what's this about an Aboriginal community? And a girl you're seeing?"

"What is this, everyone-gossip-about-Jack day?" Jack complained.

"Well, if you told us anything, we wouldn't _have_ to gossip," Rebecca countered. What Charlotte _hadn't_ told her was what had happened between Jack and Gabrielle; Rebecca sensed the older woman knew, but wasn't telling her. Well, she'd just have to get it out of him herself.

Jack filled her in about what he'd been up to since leaving Sydney and the people he treated. Rebecca had to concede that he seemed a lot more settled. He really believed in what he was doing. And yet – if he believed in it so much, what was he doing back in Sydney? The Jaegers could take care of Gabrielle if they wanted to, they didn't need Jack. Not the way this community needed him, from the way he talked. And the way he talked about Talia – she sounded a bit possessive, but God knew, he needed someone to be possessive over him, from what she had gleamed of his life, he hadn't had that much.

Come to think of it... She wondered if this rift between him and Gabrielle had something to do with Steve. She hadn't liked the older doctor from the first time she had met him. There was something smarmy about him, something deeply entitled. Charlotte had filled her in on Steve being furious at Jack for spilling to Claire about his history with alcohol and Gabrielle. Rebecca didn't know much about the situation other than that Jack didn't like him much for the way he had treated her in the past, but seriously, how dumb and entitled were you to think you could get away with not telling someone you claimed to love something like that? She was dying to hear Claire's perspective and wondered where the girl was. Matter of fact, she wondered how Gabrielle was doing.

"She's in her room," Jack said. She mostly stayed there, turning down Jack's offers to help her into the lounge room where she could watch TV and socialise a little more with Jack and Claire. Jack found himself grateful for Claire's company; he couldn't leave the house much so having her around made time go far quicker. He got up and padded down the hall to Gabrielle's room – a part of him would always think of that night when he made his way down the hall to the master bedroom – and knocked on her door. She called for him to enter; not that she could really stop him if he wanted to come in. "Bec's here," he said, poking his head around the door. She looked awful. He really wished she would let him take her outside and get some sun and fresh air, or at least comb her hair out. "She wants to see you."

It was on the tip of Gabrielle's tongue to tell him to send his sister away. After Rebecca had received a letter from Jack letting her know he was OK but didn't want to be contacted, she had badgered Gabrielle for several weeks, wanting to know what had happened that he had just up and left like that. Rebecca had a good instinct when it came to Jack, and Gabrielle had the feeling Rebecca knew something was up, and that it was her fault. But basic good manners prevented her from doing so.

Rebecca came in carrying a massive bunch of flowers. "I came when I heard," she said. "Unfortunately, he didn't see fit to tell me himself. I heard from Charlotte." She set the flowers down on the table, moving other arrangements around to make room. "You have a small floristry here," she commented. "Who are they all from?"

"My dad and brother, some friends from back home, people from the hospital," she said.

"Which ones are from Steve?" Rebecca asked, wanting to know what kind of flowers her brother's rival bought. Not that she considered someone like Steve to be a rival for Jack, but she was aware Steve and Gabrielle had a long history and as such, he still had a special place in her heart.

"He didn't send any."

"Oh? When did he come by?"

"He hasn't," Gabrielle said flatly. Rebecca was looking at her curiously. Gabrielle didn't blame her. She knew it looked like Steve didn't care, that they had shared such a long history but he hadn't so much as dropped by or sent flowers. "It's because of Claire," she explained weakly. "He doesn't like to be reminded."

_Yeah, that and I'm sure it must prick his conscience to think about how many times he's drunk and driven_, Rebecca thought. Jack had told her about Steve's drinking. She chatted to Gabrielle for a few minutes before given the older woman her best wishes and returning to the main room where Jack was waiting. "She looks awful," Rebecca commented.

"I know. I try to get her to get outside and do something with her hair, but she won't. She can be stubborn like that," he added dryly.

"Sounds like someone I know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Rebecca flashed him a grin. "Whatever you want it to be, big brother," she said sweetly.

* * *

Rebecca's visit had gotten her down. Compared to her youthful vitality and svelte good looks, Gabrielle felt old, tired and frumpy. She raked the fingers on her left hand through her hair, already knowing that it was dirty and knotted. She had never had silky straight hair like Rebecca did, but now it felt like straw. Dirty straw that the horses had kicked up.

She remembered the photo of Talia that Jack had shown her. There was another beautiful woman. Gabrielle felt hot tears start in her eyes. She hadn't been able to compete with such women when she had been fit and healthy. She found herself watching Claire with Jack when Jack could convince her to leave her room, and she hated it. It only served to remind her that there were far prettier women than her in the world.

That Steve hadn't come to see her, hadn't even sent flowers, served as proof of that. Zoe had told her he had spent every free minute at Claire's bedside... but he had never enquired about her, at least not in person. It killed a little part of her to know that human decency dictated that Rebecca make an appearance... but that Steve owed her no such decency.

She knew part of it was because her felt guilty. She knew that since he had joined AA, he had become increasingly aware of how the things he had done had affected others – including all the times he had driven home drunk. It was only by the place of God that he had never crashed his car into anything more than a letterbox (usually hers)... but that wouldn't have stopped Steve thinking about what he _could_ have done.

But – but... She couldn't really blame Steve for how he felt, but – she couldn't help but compare Steve's behaviour to Jack's. Steve hadn't bothered to see her either in hospital or at home, while Jack had come back from his new life, the life he had created for himself after she had humiliated him. She had never asked for it, wasn't even sure that she _wanted_ it... but what did it stay about Steve that he had given so little when she had needed him and Jack had been willing to give so much?

Not that it mattered when she was stuck here and felt ugly and old.

She ran her fingers through her hair again and began to cry in earnest. She hated the way she looked.

With great difficulty, she managed to get into her wheelchair, the same one she had refused to get into when Jack had wanted to take her outside. Years of favouring both sides equally gave her strength in her left side – left arm in particular – that few people had, and it was only because of that that she made it. She pushed the chair through the door with awkwardness and difficulty, hating herself for how long and how much effort it took.

Claire was on the couch, headphones plugged into her laptop, music no doubt blaring out of it. Gabrielle made her way into the kitchen and yanked open the drawer she kept the scissors in. Crying with frustration now as well as self-pity, she rummaged through it, unable to locate them.

On top of the counter, the knife block caught her attention. That would do just as well. Gritting her teeth, she tried to grasp the edge of the block and pulled it towards her.

"Gabrielle! What in God's name do you think you're doing?" Jack yanked her back. The knife block fell from her grasp and clattered to the floor. Jack wrapped his arms under her arms and dragged her back into bed. He had been in his room and come out to get a drink of water only to see her trying to get hold of a knife. His heart had caught in his throat and he had reacted, not knowing what the hell she was thinking. She shouldn't be trying to get around on her own, and she knew it. And what did she need with a knife?

He dropped her onto the bed with little thought of her comfort and slapped her hard across her face. By sheer luck of being right-handed, the blow landed on her left cheek and didn't disturb the healing bruises and laceration on the right side of her face. "What the _fuck_ were you trying to achieve?" he thundered at her.

She shrank under his furious glare. "None of your business," she snapped.

He balled his hands into fists, fighting the urge to hit her again. He had known she would be stubborn, known she would try to do things she wasn't ready to do. Damnit, she _knew_ she wasn't fit to be getting herself around on her own, not even to the kitchen. "You stupid girl!" he yelled at her. "Tell me what you thought you were doing or I'll call your dad and tell him to put you in a home, I will _not_ put up with this crap."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he could do exactly that, but she stopped herself in time. She hated being so reliant on Jack, but she knew she'd hate being in a home more. And any fight was gone from her anyway. She felt suddenly drained of energy, and her ribs were starting to ache more than usual. "I wanted the scissors to cut my hair," she admitted. "It's gross. I feel disgusting."

He stared at her for a second, then hit her again. She had risked her health and recovery so she could cut her _hair_? "You're an even bigger idiot than I thought," he snapped. "Your hair's disgusting because you won't let me wash it. Maybe if you stopped lying here and feeling sorry for yourself, you might look less disgusting."

"So you agree, you think I look disgusting."

"I didn't say that."

"You're thinking it. Everyone's thinking it. I look awful and I can't do anything for myself." She turned her face away from Jack. She didn't want to see him, didn't want him seeing her like this, weak and incapable of all but the smallest things, didn't want him around while she was feeling sorry for herself and remembering everything that had happened. "Please, just leave me alone."

"I can't do that, I told your dad I'd take care of you."

"Oh, just go away, Jack. You don't owe me anything. I can take care of myself."

"Then stop crying." She just sobbed harder at that. "It'll be OK. You're going to get better. You just need to take care of yourself and that means letting me take care of you."

"It won't be OK, Jack. I wrecked everything."

"You didn't –"

"Yeah, I did," she insisted tearfully. "You were the best thing that happened to me in years, you were my best friend and I fucked it up. I wanted to tell you – wanted to apologise – make it up to you –"

"It doesn't matter," he said softly. He knew part of it was simply that she was feeling sorry for herself, but he was still surprised to realise she still felt bad. Besides, hadn't it all turned out for the best? Hadn't he found himself passionate about medicine again, found himself a girlfriend who was crazy about him?

"Yes it does," she sobbed.

"No, it doesn't. Look, I had a lot of time to things and a lot of things put in perspective. It was partly my own fault anyway. I knew how you felt about him but I was dumb enough to hope I could make you love me. You'd think I would have learnt, but you know me, a total glutton for punishment. We were both really upset and... it was wrong of me to blame you for it all."

It wasn't exactly the forgiveness she had been wanting. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know."

She reached out to touch his face. He didn't shy away from it. "I wish I could take it back. I – Jack, I swear, it was just a slip of the tongue. It didn't mean anything. I mean, I know it meant something to you, but –"

"Please, can we not do this," he pleaded. "It's done."

She looked at him, for the first time truly understanding that he had moved on. She'd had her chance and blown it. Now she had to respect that he was with someone else. "Sorry, just something Rebecca said that's got me down."

"Like what?"

Gabrielle explained that Rebecca's questions about Steve's not coming to visit her had upset her more than she cared to admit. "I feel like everything I touch turns to shit."

"That's not true. Steve's just a jerk. I never understood what you saw in him. You can do so much better than him."

"Sometimes I doubt it." And she found herself crying again.

"Here." Jack leaned over and wiped her tears away. "I know you," he said softly. "You can do better. You _deserve_ better."

Time felt as if had gone backwards and it was another day, another lot of tears to wipe away. She was an idiot to still be so hung up on him, but then, so was he for not being able to forget about her. "Gabrielle," he said. The way she looked at him, wide-eyed and teary. She could still turn his heart to mush when she looked at him like that. "Gabrielle," he said again, and he knew he sounded hoarse. How could months and months of hurt and anger just dissolve like this? He brought his hand around to the back of her head and he couldn't feel the dirt in her hair or the faded bruises on her face, all he saw was someone he had never stopped caring about, no matter how hard he tried to hate her. He leaned in...

And jerked back at the sound of the doorbell ringing. "I have to get that," he mumbled. Knowing Claire, she could sit a few meters from the front door for hours and not register that someone was pounding on it. The reverie was broken and he jumped up, grateful for the interruption. What had he been _thinking_?

He left the room and made his way for the front door. Predictably, Claire was listening to music, oblivious to the pounding on the door. "I'm coming!" Jack yelled. For a second he wondered if it was Ian, he couldn't think of anyone else who would be so persistent and aggressive. Well, Ian was in for a surprise if he thought he could harass Claire on Jack's watch. "Jesus, calm down will you," he snapped as he threw open the door. He was so surprised to see them that for several seconds, he just stood there.

"Hi, Jack," Talia said.


	4. Chapter 4

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Talia asked after she had been standing in the door for several seconds. "I brought your car back for you."

"Uh... thanks," Jack said, not knowing what else to say. He stepped away from the door so she could step inside. She eyed the place. It was bigger than what she was used to, but a little drab, and she said so. _Just like Gabrielle_, she thought.

She spotted Claire on the couch. By now, the young nurse had taken notice of Jack and Talia – she recognised the beautiful woman from her photo, which didn't do her justice – and taken her headphones off her ears. The two women inspected each other.

"You're right, she's very plain," Talia said. "I thought you said she was a blond."

Claire felt an immediately flush of resentment. She knew Talia had mistaken her for Gabrielle, but still, no girl liked to be called plain. She wondered what Jack had said about Gabrielle.

Ignoring Claire, Talia turned to Jack. "I've missed you," she cooed coyly. She toyed with the buttons on his shirt in a way that left no doubt to either Jack or Claire what she wanted.

"Jack," Claire said, "I'll do you a deal. I'll keep an eye out on Gabrielle if you take it to your room."

Talia scowled at Claire. Jack was living with _another_ woman? Well, she was pretty plain, too. "Thanks," Jack said, and he led Talia to his room.

"Who's she?" Talia asked as soon as the door was shut behind them.

"A friend of Gabrielle's."

"Why isn't _she_ looking after her?"

"Talia, are we really going to start this after we haven't seen each other for so long?" Jack asked. He could barely believe she was here. He had spoken to her a few days ago, and she had given no hint that she would be coming down. He wondered if she had even _intended_ to come at that time, or if she had decided after that it had been enough time.

Talia flashed him a smile that he knew all too well. "No," she said. She reached for the buttons on his shirt and expertly undid the first two, sliding her hand down his bare chest in a way she knew he liked. He sighed with pleasure, knowing what was coming.

She pushed him slightly so he was forced onto the bed and she straddled him. He grabbed her hips and flipped her easily onto her back. "You know I like to be on top," he said with a grin, kissing her deeply. "God, I've missed you," he said as she ran her hands down his back and inside his shirt...

Several hours later, he stirred guiltily. He had let himself get carried away when he was supposed to be keeping an eye on Gabrielle. Claire had said she would do it, but that had been a while ago.

Talia responded by running her fingers along his chest. He groaned, partly in desire and partly in frustration that she wasn't letting him do what he was supposed to. "Babe, I've got to at least _check_ that things are OK."

"That chick said she'd do it."

"_That chick_'s name is Claire, and it's not fair for me to dump my responsibilities on her," Jack said. "It will just take a few minutes." He dressed and padded into the main room. "Everything OK?" he asked Claire.

"She's sleeping." Claire looked quizzically at Jack. "Did you know she was coming?"

"No."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Look, sorry for what she said to you before. She thought you were Gabrielle."

Claire didn't say anything at that. She had figured from the comment about being a blond that it had been directed at Gabrielle, but still – whatever resentment Jack had held towards Gabrielle, however he had been hurting over it when he had started seeing Talia and whatever hurts he had confided in her, common bloody decency dictated that you didn't say something like that with the intention of a person hearing it. And it _did_ hurt a little to be called plain.

Something told her she wasn't going to like Talia much.

Talia, as it turned out, had intended of staying with Jack if Jack refused to come back to the community with her. She had had enough of Jack spending time with Gabrielle – and now that she had found out there was _another_ woman staying in the house, well, she wasn't going to stand for it, at least without her being here to claim her turf.

"Talia, you can't stay here," Jack protested weakly when she first told him of her intentions.

"Then we'll get a place together," she suggested calmly, as if he didn't actually need to be within close proximity of Gabrielle. "Or better yet, come back to the clinic. You can do so much more there than babysitting some brat who won't get over her boyfriend."

Jack tried to remember if Talia had always been this possessive. Maybe being with her own people in her own culture kept it at bay more. He knew she had never liked big towns, let alone Sydney. He wondered how different things would be between them now that they were on _his_ turf. "You know I can't leave," he reminded her. "And this isn't my home. I can't just install whoever I like."

"So _her_ feelings mean more to your than mine?" she asked in a hurt mood.

"Of course not, don't be stupid."

"Now I'm being stupid?"

Jack sighed. Something told him this was not going to be easy.

* * *

"I've never known you to get drunk, Claire," Adam commented with a wry smile. They all knew how badly Ian's abusive alcoholism had affected her; if she and Talia had got off on the right foot, they might have ended up bonding over seeing the destruction it could wreak on the people they loved.

Claire made a face and downed the last of her vodka, waving at Amy to get her another one while she was at the bar. "If I drink enough, the dugite won't bother me," she said.

"Claire! I can't believe you just said that! That's incredibly racist!" Charlotte admonished her.

Claire made another face. "If you met her, you'd know it's not racist if you deserve it."

"I don't get it, what's a dugite?" Bart asked.

"It's a venomous snake, mostly dark, native to WA," Charlotte explained. "Jack's girlfriend is part-Aboriginal."

"Part Aboriginal, part vampire, part bitch," Claire sang, repeating Jack's initial description of her but adding her own. Since insulting her within a minute of entering the home, Talia had seen no reason to try and get along with Claire, and had been hostile towards her ever since. The feeling was mutual. And she missed Jack's company. She hadn't realised until now how comfortable she felt around him, which said a lot given how skittish she had been after Ian's attack. But now he spent all his free time with Talia. She found herself taking up a lot of his slack in looking after Gabrielle, which she didn't mind, but still...

"She's supposed to be a good doctor," Charlotte said.

Claire shrugged. "_I_ wouldn't let her treat me." She remembered something Talia said about having excellent skills as a physician and betting she could treat Gabrielle better than Jack could. It had been the way she had said it that had sent a shiver down Claire's spine, but Talia had pretended to looked shocked that she had made Claire uncomfortable, and blamed it on her poor delivery.

Yeah, right. Talia spoke better English than most of the people she had grown up with in state housing, but Claire bet she liked to fall back on it as an excuse for a bitchy remark. _My English, it poor_...

"Jack seems to like her," Charlotte remarked casually, except everyone at the table knew it wasn't a casual remark. It was a warning; if Jack felt like he had to choose, his loyalty would always be to his girlfriend. Weather it was Terri or Deanna or Talia, he would always go with the girlfriend.

"I know. I just think he could do better. Maybe she's not like this in her community, but she doesn't seem like his type at all. She's beautiful and smart, but she's _mean_."

That reminded Charlotte of something. "You really think she's no good for him?" she asked. Claire nodded. Charlotte was inclined to agree without having even met the woman. Something told her that no-one would ever be good for him, not when Gabrielle was still alive. "How dirty are you willing to play?" she asked. "Hypothetically, of course."

"Very," Claire said. There was something about Talia that got her back up, something predatory and unreasonable that reminded her of growing up in Perth. Talia would never accept that women and men could ever be friends, just like Ian never could, other women would always be competition, just like Ian had seen every man who looked at her twice. Jack deserved better than her. And she wanted her mate back.

"'Cos I know someone who's just as beautiful, just as smart, can be just as mean, I'm sure... and I'm willing to bet that Jack adores her even more than he does Talia."

* * *

Talia made the mistake of thinking the beautiful blond was another of Jack's friends, and treated her nastily. Rebecca had always gotten on with Gabrielle, and she hit it off quickly with Claire. Not only that, but Gabrielle was far more inclined to let Claire help her into the living room for a girl's afternoon in than she was have Jack take her into the backyard. Because she didn't have the same humiliating history, because Claire had never had to change her bedpan, she felt more relaxed with her, and Rebecca's feisty wit could always make her laugh. The three of them were in the family room playing scrabble when Claire let Talia in. She resented that Jack wouldn't give her a key, but at that he drew the line. He knew he had been pushing his luck to get Russel to agree to have her stay, and wasn't about to press for her to have access to the house.

The beautiful blond represented everything Talia hated about whites. Slim figure, long flowing blond hair, obviously confident. Really, was _this_ the sort of girl Jack hung around with? And so she used the particularly vicious side of her tongue. And Rebecca, when provoked, could be just as vicious.

Gabrielle and Claire were enjoying the slanging match far too much to inform Talia who she was insulting. They exchanged a look; _let her dig her hole that little bit deeper_. Gabrielle liked Talia no more than Claire did; if anything, she had even _more_ reason to dislike the woman, since once Talia had worked out who Gabrielle was, she had been even more nasty to her than she had been Claire. Neither of them liked having her around, and Gabrielle in particular resented having the woman in her house, but her dad had insisted. Jack would stay only if Talia stayed. (That Jack had been bluffing on that one was something Russell would never know.) So Talia stayed, and Gabrielle wasn't in a position to do much about it.

So seeing Talia and Rebecca at each other's throats with Talia having no idea who she was insulting was a treat for both of them.

Jack returned home over an hour later. He and Claire had an arrangement that she'd keep an eye on Gabrielle for a few hours at a time if he wanted to go out. He'd been out with Charlotte and Zach, and thankfully, Talia had found her own thing to do. He had been too grateful to have time with Charlotte and Zach to realise that Talia's 'own thing' was to come back shortly after so she could terrorise Claire and Gabrielle without Jack to keep her on a leash. The last thing she had expected was to come across yet another one of Jack's female acquaintances who turned out to be more than a match for her in intelligence and bitchiness.

"Bec!" he admonished his sister. "Did mum tell you to respect your elders?"

"Yeah," she said, flashing him a cheeky grin that he never failed to make him smile – including this time. "She also said you should only ever date women who got along with your sister."

Gabrielle bit down hard enough on her lip to bleed and Claire had to fake a coughing fit to stop from laughing at the look on Talia's face. "Talia, I take it you've met my sister Rebecca," Jack said, making the introductions an hour or so too late.

Rebecca, who had known who Talia was – there for giving her an advantage – searched the other woman's face for signs of blushing. _Damn dark skin_. Well, she liked to _think_ she was blushing, anyway. "Talia, I'll be with you in a sec," Jack said, which was code for _my room. Now_. Talia went. She had no desire to stay in the same room as those three women who were obviously trying to conceal their laughter at her expense.

Jack glowered at the three women, who even now were struggling with their laughter. He had a feeling they had planned this – and that Charlotte had something to do with it, because no-one but Charlotte would have known that Talia and Rebecca were both used to being the number-one woman in his life, and as such, it was going to take a lot of good timing and diplomacy to get them to like each other, and that the most innocuous of comments would set them at each other's throats – but he couldn't prove it. "Why didn't any of you say something?" he asked. It was clear they had let Talia carry on being nasty to Rebecca without bothering to tell her that she was Jack's beloved sister, the only family member who meant anything to him.

"Sorry, Jack," Claire said. "But I've witnessed too many squabbles between women over a man to get involved." He sent all three of them a dirty look a went to placate Talia.

"I can't believe you let her treat me like that!" Talia proclaimed tearfully.

"I wasn't here, babe, I hardly let her treat you like that," he defended himself. "Besides, I've showed you a photo of Bec. She certainly knew who _you_ were."

_Yeah, because those two bitches made sure she knew_, Talia thought. She hated being in Sydney. She hated Jack being in a place where he had so many roots. She was more aware than ever that she couldn't compete with that, and she wanted to get him out of here ASAP.

In the living room, the three women had retired for the night. Claire had seen Gabrielle to bed and Rebecca stayed with her for a bit. "You don't like Steve much, do you?" she asked. Rebecca had made a few comments here and there that made Gabrielle think she didn't think much of the older doctor. Gabrielle was sure it meant Jack had told her what had happened between them.

"No," Rebecca said honestly.

"Is it because of what happened between Jack and I?"

"I have no idea what happened, all I know is he left suddenly and sent me a letter telling me he was OK but out of contact."

Gabrielle's brow furrowed. "Then why – "

"It doesn't matter anymore."

If Claire had been there, she could have told Gabrielle it was the same tone Jack had used when realising she hadn't known about Steve and Gabrielle. They were uncannily alike in a lot of ways. "If it doesn't matter, then it doesn't matter if you tell me," Gabrielle insisted.

"He hit on me once," Rebecca admitted. When Gabrielle looked confused – after all, she was an attractive blond of twenty-two, men hit on her at the time – she figured she may as well explain. "It was at Cougars one night, I was waiting for Jack. He just... kept on at it. And he was, like, thirty-five."

"What did Jack say?"

"I didn't know who he was at the time. I just thought he was some creepy older guy looking to score with someone practically young enough to be his daughter. I saw him later with all of you – he pretended not to know me – and, well, I know Jack's temper when it comes to women that he cares about. I _like_ not having him in jail, thankyouverymuch."

Gabrielle remembered Jack's temper, too. She remembered the way he had decked Steve when Steve had been a little too persistent and rough with her. She had realised later that he couldn't stand seeing violence committed against smaller, weaker people, particularly women – it was part of what made him so good with Claire – and that he had done it because he was fond of her and didn't like seeing her manhandled. She felt a lump in her throat at the thought. There had been a time when Jack had cared about her enough to deck someone who manhandled her. "When was this?" she asked in a small voice, a sinking feeling that she knew the answer.

"Um... would have been about the time he started. Jack said something about them getting in a new doctor to replace the one that died, and that he didn't like him much."

"Oh."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter anymore." Now it was her turn to say the words.

"You guys were together then, weren't you?" she asked insightfully. Gabrielle nodded, trying not to cry. It was eighteen months ago now, but still – if he had persistently hit on a woman who had been more girl than woman to his over-thirty. "I'm sorry," she said. "If I had known –"

"You wouldn't have told me?" Gabrielle asked. Rebecca looked away guiltily. She realised why she had been so fond of Jack, why Claire was so taken with him. He and Rebecca had a tendancy of telling the truth without any thought of who might get hurt because of the web of lies that others had woven before them.

God, but Rebecca would make one hell of a sister-in-law one day. But only to a woman who deserved them both. Which reminded her... "You don't like Talia much either, do you?" she asked.

"Nope. It's not just the way she treated me – well, it's the way she treated me not knowing who I was. I'm sure she would have been nicer if she'd known I was Jack's sister. I don't care to have someone like that in his life. And I already dispatched a girlfriend who thought like that," she added with a gleefully malicious glint in her eyes.

Gabrielle laughed. She had heard about the way Rebecca had gotten Deanna Richardson drunk and then reduced her to tears at Jack's birthday party. "Something tells me that people don't last long who don't respect the strength of your relationship," she said.

"No, they don't." And there was an undertone there that Gabrielle didn't quite understand, except something in her grasped that Rebecca wouldn't be here if she didn't at least think that Gabrielle could rise to that challenge.

* * *

Talia let herself into Gabrielle's room early in the morning. Jack was asleep and she wanted to see the woman who held his attention so captively. She didn't understand it. She had broken Jack's heart and yet here he was, taking care of her... Talia scowled to think about how close he must have to get to Gabrielle at times. Why had he agreed to this? What kind of hold did she have on him that he still cared after all these months?

The woman was so plain. Talia knew she was beautiful. Enough men had told her that. At times, she hated her beauty. But now, she didn't understand why Jack was so fascinated by this plain woman who couldn't even go to the toilet on her own. And she hated her for it.

Gabrielle stirred and woke, aware that there was a presence in her room. She was used to Jack and Claire coming in whenever either of them woke to get a drink or go to the toilet and checked up on her while they did. She could sense that somehow; some called it a terrific sense of smell, others a sixth sense. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn't either of them. And there was only one other person in the house. God knew, Jack and Claire's hyper-sensitivity to security had seen to the fact that unless invited in, you pretty much had to blow out the front door to get through it. "Talia," she said groggily.

Talia's dark eyes flashed angrily. "That's me," she said. "Tell me, what do you think you'll achieve with this stunt? You really think you can make Jack love a pathetic invalid?"

"I'm not – "

"Yes, you are. You won't even _try_ to get moving. You're pathetic, you really are. You're such a princess. You think just because you're white and blond that someone will always be around to rescue you. You – "

"What the hell are you doing here?" Claire, on her way back from the toilet, had heard voices coming from Gabrielle's room and gone to investigate. She had had a bad feeling from the first second, Two _female_ voices. Apart from her, there were only two other women staying here. And they were best left apart.

Talia flashed her dark eyes at Claire. "This is none of your fucking business," she said, in as articulate English as if she had majored in it at uni.

_So _now_ you decide to speak good English_, Claire thought. "Get out," Claire instructed.

"Go to hell, white girl."

"JACK!" Claire screamed at top of her lungs, and God knew, she could scream. She had screamed when her step-father had started beating her, she had screamed when Ian had started raping her. Only now, there was no-one to cover her mouth. It felt oddly cathartic to scream for help loud and long enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear.

Jack came running from his room. He took one look at the situation and his heart sank as he realised what had happened. He had known Talia didn't like him staying with Gabrielle, but to come into her room – it didn't matter what she had meant it for, that she had invaded Gabrielle's personal space over a grudge. "Get out," he said abruptly. Claire started to go. "Not you," he said. He looked directly at Talia. "Pack your things and get out. I'll pay for your taxi to the station and your ticket and have someone pick you up."

Both Claire's and Gabrielle's hearts soared that Jack was actually making her leave. Talia looked at Jack plaintively. "You don't really want me to – " she started.

"Yeah, I do," he interrupted her. Being with her in Sydney had made her see her for what she was. She had so much capacity to care, but she was also deeply insecure and carried a lot of resentment around with her. Being in Sydney and realising that she hated every woman he was friendly with had made him realise that things would never work out between them.

"I'm sorry," Jack said later that day to Gabrielle when he had seen Talia go. "She shouldn't have said those things."

Gabrielle turned her head. Her bruises had long since healed, but it had become something of a habit. Talia's words had hurt. She was weak, and she was plain. Talia may have been an insecure bitch, but there had been truth to her words...

* * *

"I'm sorry you and Talia broke up," Claire said as sincerely as she could.

Jack handed her a beer. It sucked to drink alone, and God knew, he needed it. "No, you're not."

Claire grinned sheepishly. "OK... I'm not. She was too possessive." _And insecure, and a cow_, she thought mentally. But leave that to Jack to figure out for himself.

Jack settled into the couch. "That's part of what I liked about her," he admitted. "I equated possessive with passionate, and it had been a while since a woman was truly passionate about me."

Claire was quite for a moment, lost in thought. "It can be an easy thing to do," she admitted. "For a long time, I thought the fact Ian was insanely jealous when another guy looked at me twice was a compliment to me... now I realise it was just a comment on how insecure and possessive he was."

"It must've been hard," he commented.

"It was...only I didn't realise it at the time." It was hard for her to admit to it, but a lot easier given that whatever abuse she could complain about, Jack got it.

He held out his arm so she could cuddle in to him, and she accepted it. They were both abused souls who took comfort in being with another abused soul.

* * *

Gabrielle lay in her bed, feeling sorry for herself as she had done since Talia had confronted her. Intellectually, she got that Talia had just been insecure and vicious, but in her heart... Part of her had always wondered if Steve had cheated on her because she wasn't pretty enough, and all her insecurities were coming flooding back.

After two days of her newest despondency, Jack had had enough and marched into her room early in the morning. "We're going out," he declared firmly. "Have Ali dress you in something presentable or so help me God, I'll do it myself." There was a glint in his eyes that told her he was more than capable of stripping her naked to get his own way.

"I don't feel like going out," she whined.

"It will be good for you," he insisted. "You've been feeling sorry for yourself ever since Talia left. I would have thought you'd be _pleased_."

Gabrielle glared at him. Pleased that the woman had insulted her and made her feel like nothing? "She had no right to say those things," she said. She felt uglier and more aware of her invalidity than ever.

"No, she didn't – but that doesn't mean it wasn't true," he goaded her. Gabrielle glared even more hatefully, with some of the spirit she used to possess in abundance. "And I did not wreck my relationship and jeopardise my job so you can lie here all day feeling sorry for yourself. I'm taking you out."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I can't exactly go far. What if I need to go to the toilet?" she whined.

"We're not going far, just to the park. I'm serious, Gabrielle. Have Ali get you into something decent or I'll do it myself, and I have a feeling you'd prefer Ali. Oh, and do something with your hair. I've seen oil spills with less grease." And he left Gabrielle fuming but unable to do anything.

When he came back after Ali was finishing up, she looked almost presentable. He hadn't had any intention of dragging her back into the bath to wash her hair but the important thing was that _she_ thought he was capable of it and so had had Ali help her with it. She was in a skirt and t-shirt with her hair washed and combed, and even with the bulky casts, she looked far better than she had a few hours ago.

She could get into her wheelchair on her own – at least, when she felt like it, and after Jack had found out that she could do it, he made her do it all the time and they walked to the park nearby. Jack liked it because it had an artificial lake which attracted a lot of birds and an expansive play area that attracted a lot of parents with their children. He used to love coming here and think about bringing his own family here one day.

"Bet your dad would have loved you for presenting him with part-Aboriginal grandkids," Gabrielle couldn't resist saying.

"All the more reason to have done it," Jack replied with a grin. He had known being outside would do her the world of good. "Maybe he would have considered me a lost cause once and for all. I wouldn't want to bring up a family in the community, though. I know it sounds snobbish but the amount of bad influences and the little opportunity for education – come to think of it, my dad would have been right at home. My brothers, too."

"God, no wonder you and Claire get along so well. You guys should get drunk one night and start a pissing contest of who has the shittier parents."

"Wouldn't surprise me," he said. He had found he tended to click well with people who'd come from neglectful homes that thrived on ignorance and bad influences but who had made something of themselves. Only those same people understood the drive to get away from the dirt you had come from. It had been a big part of his attraction to Talia.

"I'm sorry you broke up," Gabrielle said when she asked Jack what he was thinking and he told her.

He grinned. "You and Claire both like to insult my intelligence, don't you? I know neither of you could stand her."

Caught out in a lie, Gabrielle grinned sheepishly. "She didn't seem right for you. Too possessive, too jealous."

"Honestly, that was a big part of why I liked her," Jack admitted. He found himself telling her about dating Terri Sullivan and how he could sense it when she was lying in his arms and thinking about her late husband. "When I told her about me and Charlotte, she took it so calmly, like the fact I'd slept with her best friend and gotten her pregnant meant nothing to her. I wanted her to yell at me and hit me – do _something_ to show that she was angry, 'cos at least that would have proven she cared – well, that was my logic, anyway," he added ruefully. He had long since come to understand that Terri wasn't the type to get angry when getting angry wouldn't change anything. "So for a while having this gorgeous, intelligent woman make herself available for me whenever I wanted and who would slap me if I so much as perved at Angelina Jolie for too long was good for my ego, made me think she was crazy about me. I'm beginning to realise she was just crazy-possessive and crazy-insecure."

Gabrielle's first thought was that it was no wonder Claire and Jack got along so well, they had grown up in households that not only were neglectful that thrived on ignorance and bad influences, but that were abusive as well. Only a survivor of abuse would understand where their tendencies to date people wrong for them came from. Her second thought was that if Jack was still scarred from Terri treating him the way she had, then how must he feel about the way Gabrielle herself had treated him? "I never realised how important it was for you to know someone loved you," she murmured. Even in the worst days with Steve, she had known that she had her dad and brother – and later on, Jack – and because she had grown up sheltered by Russel and Ben's love, it had never occurred to her that maybe someone she _knew_ had never been secure in the knowledge that they were loved.

And she had compounded his lack of security by making him believe that he would never be more than a warm body when Steve wasn't available. No wonder he had reacted the way he did when she had called the wrong name. "I'm sorry," she said, surprising them both with her sincerity. "I didn't realise it meant that much to you."

"You weren't to know. You don't need to keep apologising, Gabs. I've done a lot of thinking. I thought I had come a long way in my attitudes and beliefs from when I started as an intern to when I left the hospital, but being in the community opened my eyes to how skewered my sense of proportion was. I've seen stuff that I didn't truly believe existed in Australia, I'm not about to start feeling sorry for myself when the girl I like doesn't like me back." He said this with a rueful grin, like his feelings for her had been nothing more than a schoolboy crush – less consequential to a truly mature adult than Bart's being 'in love' with Erica. Gabrielle didn't know why she was so disappointed at the thought.

They stayed in the park for over an hour before Jack started packing lunch away. "I didn't mean to keep you out here for so long," he said.

"But I'm enjoying myself!" she said, surprised at just how much he was.

"I know, but I don't want you to overdo it. Look, we'll do this again soon, OK?" he promised.

"It's a date," she said, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them.

* * *

"That Rebecca's handiwork?" Jack asked a few weeks later. The cast had come off her wrist a week before, and the amount of greater mobility and freedom that it allowed her made for a great improvement in Gabrielle's mood. He had come back at the end of Ali's shift to see her on the couch, her nails painted blood red.

"Yeah, she said that since this will probably be the only opportunity to grow my nails long between now and retirement, I should take advantage of it," Gabrielle said. She held out her manicured-and-painted figures. "I've never had nails this long," she said admiringly. Jack had to laugh. It was so unlike Gabrielle to take such pleasure in her appearance that it was amusing. "You want to feel how sharp they are?" she asked, reaching for his arm.

Jack pulled it away. "No thanks, I've felt how long your nails are before," he said, trying not to think _although I remember more how tightly you wrapped your legs around my waist._ He sat down on the couch. "What are you watching?" he asked.

"_Buffy_."

"Want me to put it on, or can the High Priestess of the Stubborn manage it?"

She poked her tongue out at him. "She can manage it herself, but the High Priestess of the Stubborn wouldn't mind her head being rubbed." Was she pushing for too much? She remembered how nice it was to put on a DVD and have Jack play with her hair. Things had been going so well lately, almost like old times with their easygoing camaraderie, but she was afraid to ask for too much and have him back off.

"It will be worth it just to see you get from here to the DVD player and back again," he teased.

She managed it, and returned to the couch to lay her head in his lap. He began idly stroking her hair and running his fingers across her scalp. He idly traced the scar on the back of her head, and she found herself moving into him. She had always loved the way Jack did that like it was just another quirk on her body and not a souvenir from her often-volatile relationship with Steve.

Things were lovely between them, and she wanted to tell him it could be like this again, all the time, him and her together, close friends, closer than close friends... she literally bit her tongue to stop from blurting the words out. She had no idea how Jack felt about her. For all she knew, he was just happy to have her not be a bitch all the time and was simply encouraging that. She thought guiltily of all the times she had snapped at him out of her own feelings of helplessness. Now that she could get around a lot on her own – and that included being able to bathe and go to the toilet on her own – she remembered how obnoxious she had been to him in the past. It was one more thing she wanted to apologise for, but she found herself keeping her mouth shut. She didn't want to embarrass herself and have to watch the expression on his face as he apologised for not returning her feelings. That was, if he felt he had anything to apologise for. For all she knew, he could very well see any unrequited feelings as karmic justice


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm right here, babe. You're not going to fall." Jack held his arms out to Gabrielle, slightly out of reach so she had to walk towards him. Her leg had taken a long time healing, and putting weight on it again was a foreign experience to her. She stumbled from the first moment and was quickly discouraged. Jack held his fingers a fraction out of reach so she would have to walk towards him, ready to catch her if she really did fall.

She managed a few steps, each with him taking an equal step backwards, until it was apparent that she _would_ fall from the effort, and he embraced her as tightly as he dared given her ribs were still healing. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his as she took in great gulps of air, breathing heavily in relief. "I thought this day would never come," she said.

"Ye of little faith," he murmured softly into her hair. She wasn't fit to return to work yet, but this would give her plenty more mobility and make her a lot less reliant on him, which could only be a good thing, given how much pride she had. It can't have been easy for her to depend so much on him and Ali for such intimate things.

"OK, I'm ready to try again," Gabrielle said. She managed to circle the room with Jack shadowing her until she suddenly felt very weak and she sat down for a few minutes.

"Easy," he told her. "The last thing you need is to collapse and do yourself more injury." _That_ got through to her, and she allowed herself to be wheeled out to Jack's car. "But I'll let you walk up the drive," he said.

They got home, and with Jack's help, she pottered around the house, doing things she had been unable to do for what had felt like forever. It made Jack's heart flip a little to see her obvious enthusiasm to such small things like being able to get up on tip-toes – albeit by putting a lot of her weight on her arms – to reached the top of the fridge. Her enthusiasm made him remember plans he had made in celebration. "I'm taking you out to Vincenzio's tonight," he said. "Wear that red dress I like."

She was so stunned that he had made dinner plans that she forgot to say something about being a self-willed woman who didn't take a man's instructions on what to wear. Besides, she _did_ like that dark-red dress that Jack was referring to. She had worn it when he had taken her out to dinner to thank her for providing him with a place, and had complimented her profusely on how well she scrubbed up. To this date, no man had complimented her so much on her looks... and even better, he appeared to have meant every word. "You mean with dad and Ben?" she asked. Both men had been keen to see her able to get around without the aid of crutches... but then, something told her that neither man would be too offended if they found out Jack had taken her out to celebrate, just the two of them.

He made a face. "Are you kidding me? I know how fussy you are about your food. I'm not taking on all three of you."

Several hours later, Gabrielle, who had had a lot to drink, allowed Jack to help her inside, having spent most of the evening limping and stumbling around until Jack finally told her that she was too weak and too drunk to be getting around on her own. In her drunk state, she was only too happy to have Jack loop his arm around her waist – from her left side – and guide her everywhere. Maybe it was being drunk, maybe it was being high on being able to walk properly again – well, as properly as she could manage – but she couldn't remember Jack being this strong and sexy. She wanted to tell him so but managed to bite her tongue.

Instead, she asked, "Do you think you could stay with me? Just until I go to sleep. It's been such a wonderful night and I don't want it to end with me alone." And it _had_ been a wonderful night. She remembered the first time she and Jack had first gone out, when he had first moved in and she had worn that red dress, and he had proved how interesting and funny he was. He had held out her seat for her, recommended meals, been the kind of man that most girlfriends would kill for to have in a boyfriend.

And she had ruined it by crying out Steve's name at the worst moment she could possibly have done it.

Jack was a little surprised by her request, but didn't have the heart to turn her down. "Sure," he said. Her eyes hadn't sparkled in a long, long time the way they had sparkled tonight. He knew part of that was the wine she had drunk, but a huge part of it was feeling liberated and happy... and God, but she looked cute when her eyes sparkled and she smiled that way. He didn't have the heart to turn down _any_ request she made tonight. He might even have married her had she thought to ask.

They went to her bedroom and he waited for her while she undressed. He smiled when he saw her. "I thought you threw those out," he said. 'They' were these adorable pink-and-white striped pyjamas that he loved. He had never known Gabrielle was capable of being such a girly girl until he had moved in with her.

"I only told you that 'cos I knew how much you loved them," she said.

"They felt nice and soft when you used to fall asleep in my arms," he replied with a smile, remembering all the times she had fallen asleep in his arms while they were having a DVD marathon.

She bit back a comment about how it was difficult _not_ to fall asleep in the arms of someone who made her feel so safe and secure. Really, it was like falling asleep when you were a child and your mother would read to you and you drifted off knowing that all was right with the world because you had someone who had your back. Instead, she let Jack help her to bed and cuddled up against him. Suddenly, she was filled with a deep sense of loss at how masculine he felt. Masculine - but safe at the same time. There wasn't another man in the world quite like Jack. "I'm sorry," she said again, something she had said dozens of times in the course of the last few months and thought a thousand times more.

"What?" Jack asked. But she had already fallen asleep.

Rather than leave her room, he stayed with her a while longer, feeling the rhythmic beat of her chest rising and falling, of her heart beating. God, but he had had a good time today – too good for his own good, he thought. It was stupid to be having these sorts of feelings for her. But when he was with her, especially on a night like tonight, when her eyes were sparkling and she was smiling a lot, he couldn't help but remember all the good times.

And there had been a lot. He hadn't just lost someone he had been in love with that night, he had lost his best friend – and that, he was starting to realise, had been the far greater loss. He remembered when he had first come back to the ward after his emotional breakdown following his sexual abuser coming back into his life, how at first she had been reluctant to be around him and then how she had jumped into his arms while they had been looking for a dog... how she had ruffled his hair the way he liked when he had been upset about a patient... how she had smiled and laughed when they had first had dinner together when he had first moved in... the way she would lie in his arms, pulling his arms around her as she drifted off while watching _Buffy_... she had meant everything to him.

And she had broken his heart because she had meant everything to him. Over a guy who treated her like _she_ meant nothing to _him_.

* * *

"Well, look who's back on their feet," Steve said admiringly. Whatever Gabrielle had been doing during her convalescence, it had done her the world of good. She was glowing. She looked tanned, and her hair was in the best shape it had ever been.

"Blame Jack and Rebecca," Gabrielle said. "He makes me go out every day and get some sun, and apparently law students don't do nearly as much work as they used to, 'cos she has plenty of time to come over and badger me about my appearance." Actually, she had quite taken to having Rebecca in her life; the girl certainly knew a lot about style. Not that she could afford to spend over an hour on her looks each day when she was working again, but it was nice to feel a bit glamorous.

"Who's Rebecca?" Steve asked.

"Jack's sister."

Steve frowned. He wondered if Gabrielle had ever found out about him hitting on Rebecca. How was he to know that she was actually Quade's sister? They didn't have the same last name and looked nothing alike, except for those arrogant green eyes that told you they thought they were better than you... He decided not, because he would have heard about it now – from either Gabrielle or Quade. "I didn't know he had a sister," he lied.

She was hurt that he would bother to lie about something like that at this late date. "You never noticed the stunning blond who always looks ready to barrel him over like a lab with too much energy?" she asked.

"Oh, her. I thought she was a girlfriend or something," Steve lied.

She told herself that it was just because he was still covering for things he had done will drunk... but why did it matter anymore? So he had aggressively hit on someone while they had been together – she had managed to forgive him for sleeping with her best friend and still taken him back, surely she could understand if he had tried to flirt with someone? "What are you doing here?" she asked. It was the first time that she had seen Steve since before her accident, and maybe it was her imagination, but there seemed to be less of a glow about him these days.

"Thought I'd take you out to dinner to celebrate your recovery. Frank says you'll be back on Monday."

"Only on light duties. He said if he catches me lifting anything heavier than a kilo, he'll fire me," she said. She wasn't sure if Frank had been joking about that one or not.

"Whatever. It will be good to have you back. Claire has been NUM by default, and she doesn't do nearly as good a job as you." Actually, Steve had come to realise, Claire didn't do nearly as good a job as Gabrielle when it came to a lot of things. Claire dumping him over being an alcoholic and not telling him about his history with Gabrielle – something he _still_ wanted to deck Quade for – had made him realise what a gem he had with Gabrielle. He had been reluctant to see her while she was recovering and Quade was running interference, but now that she was almost 100% and Quade was sure to be on his merry way anytime soon, he thought it was a good time to come and see her. "I was thinking I could take you out to dinner – that place you like, Vincenzio's."

Gabrielle suppressed a smile. She had mentioned to Steve that there was this great Italian place and he had taken her there on her birthday. She had never mentioned that it was Jack who had introduced her to it. "Just let me put something nicer on," she said.

Jack came home shortly after, Since Gabrielle had gotten the cast off her leg, they had an understanding that he could come and go as he pleased and she would call him if she needed something done that she couldn't do for herself... in return, she had to be honest with him when she was too weak or tired to manage on her own, and she had found that it was best to be honest with him, he had a way of honing in on her thoughts. "What's going on?" he asked, seeing her dressed up before he saw Steve.

"Steve's taking me out for dinner as a celebration for my recovery," Gabrielle said.

She was disappointed when she didn't see a flicker of emotion in Jack's eyes. "Be careful," he said, like any carer would. "Your dad will kill me if I let something happen to you at this point."

"I will be," she said. It had been two weeks since she'd had her cast off, and her ribs were almost 100% healed. Like hell she would jeapordise that now. But still, she wished Jack would say something to make her think he _cared_ that she was going out with Steve. He had once cared enough to walk out and fling the keys in her face. She hadn't realised until recently that that was actually _caring_. Now, it was more like indifference... and she found that she cared a great deal about _that_.

A few hours later, Claire came home to find Jack watching a DVD. "Where's Gabby?" she asked.

"Out with Steve," he said, not seeing any point in trying to save her feelings when she would find out eventually. "Took her out to celebrate returning to work."

"Oh." She sat down beside him. "You seem... very calm," she commented.

"What, am I supposed to be a jealous wreck?" She nodded, smiling sheepishly, trying to analyse her own feelings. She wasn't jealous, exactly... more like sad. Steve had turned out not to be the guy she thought he was, which was such a pity, because she thought she could have been happy with him. And she found herself feeling a little sad for Gabrielle, because she didn't think Steve could make _anyone_ happy in the long run.

She cleared her head of her thoughts when she realised Jack was speaking. "Once I would have been jealous," he admitted. "Now I just feel... like it's such a waste. When he's on the scene, I mean. My feelings for her, her feelings for him – I don't understand why she keeps going back to him. Even sober, he hasn't exactly been Mr. Honest and Reliable." Claire nodded at that. He had put into words her feelings for not being jealous of them herself. Perhaps if Steve had been upfront with her about his history with alcohol and Gabrielle, things might have worked between them. It had been because he had tried to hide them from her that she knew she could never trust him... and she felt sad for Gabrielle for thinking that she _could_.

"Maybe when you go so far back with someone you think you can give them one more chance," she mused.

Jack shrugged. "Maybe," he said, not believing it. To him, it worked the other way – there was a point where you went so far back with someone that you knew you could never give them one more chance. "But I'm not jealous," he said. "I wouldn't want what they have for anything... and I don't want anyone who wants that, either."

"There never were truer words," Claire said. "Want a drink?"

"I'd love one."

"What _is_ this?" she asked an hour later, trying to follow the program that Jack was watching.

"_The Tudors_. It's part of the way into season two so you've missed a lot," Jack said. "It's about Henry the 8th and – "

"Whatever, _Gossip Girl_ is on," Claire interrupted him. History had never interested in her, even when it came presented as Jonathan Rhys Meyers.

"I was here first and I'm not giving up a critically acclaimed show for a dumb soap opera," Jack said.

"This is a DVD. You can watch it later."

"You go hire your stupid soap opera on DVD."

"Just 'cos you don't like to watch anything set after nineteen hundred doesn't make it stupid," Claire said. OK, so it was absolute trash, but she loved it and at least she didn't take it seriously, unlike some people. "Give me the remote."

"No."

"Jack... hand over the remote."

"Need I remind you that I'm bigger and stronger than you and besides, possession is nine-tenths of the law," Jack said with a smirk.

"Who's that?" Claire asked, directing her attention to the television. "Is she important?"

Jack diverted his attention to the riveting brunette. "Anne Boleyn? Yeah, she – hey!" Jack cried indignantly when Claire used his distraction to grab the remote off her.

"Possession is nine-tenths," she reminded him gleefully.

"And I'm bigger and stronger that you," _he_ reminded _her_. He lunged towards her and tried to retrieve the remote. Claire responded by leaning back, fully extending her arms, both hands firmly gripping the contested remote, as far out of Jack's reach as she could manage. But Jack was taller as well as bigger and stronger and soon had his hands over hers, trying to dislodge the remote from her iron grip.

"No!" she squealed, giggling while refusing to relinquish her hold.

"Give... me... the... remote," Jack grunted, trying not to smile. There was something oddly fun about wrestling over a remote with a girl who was surprisingly strong. Said girl's giggling was contagious and he tried not to let her encourage him.

"No."

"Give it to me."

"If you're so big and strong, make me," she teased. It suddenly occurred to her that someone like Ian would have taken her up on her 'offer', and that the words had spilled easily out of her mouth because she knew Jack never would. And she suddenly became aware that despite the strength and power in his body, she had never once felt uneasy around him. And that he smelled so good and that despite the smell of beer on his breath, his kisses wouldn't be drunk and sloppy and aggressive like Ian's had been. "Jack," she said his name with more want than she had ever felt before.

She let go of the remote but Jack didn't bother to take it and it fell to the floor with a clatter. Jack met her eyes and became suddenly aware that she looked so cute the way she was looking up at him, her eyes full of trust. He curled his fingers around hers and she responded by threading hers through his. "Feel scared?" he asked, remembering what it had been for him after Patrick had attacked him, skittish to anyone's touch.

"Never when I'm with you," she said, knowing as she spoke the words, even though she hadn't consciously thought about it before, that it was true.

His kiss, when it came, was as gentle as she had thought it would be, even though she hadn't consciously thought about it. She had known he would know how to kiss, and known he would know how to put her at ease. He kept his closed mouth on hers for a few seconds until she opened her mouth to his. He ran his tongue over her lips until she met it with her own, waited for her to push her tongue into his mouth, always keeping himself slightly aloof, waiting for her to make the next move, one sensation at a time. He patiently drew her out so she was making the first moves as she felt comfortable making them, touching him when she felt ready to touch him, giving him the OK to do the same. He brought one hand away from holding hers and to the small of her back. She responded by freeing her hands from his and running them down his back and under his shirt. Jack grunted his enjoyment.

He started running kisses along her face and neck, freeing her mouth to make little noises of her enjoyment. She had never thought kissing could feel this good – sexy and safe at the same time. She thought she could become addicted to this.

They made out on the couch for a while, Jack letting her make every first mood until she was thoroughly worked up and realised he had no intention of taking things further unless she made it clear that it was what she wanted. She ran her fingers slightly along the bare skin on the small of his back, feeling oddly apprehensive about doing something bold because she _never _made the first move, certainly not like that, but then, she had never wanted someone like this, either. She brought her hands around to the button on his jeans.

He pulled her hand away and returned it to his back. She tried it again and this time he pulled it away and pulled slightly away from her so he could meet her eyes. "I want to," she insisted when she saw the look that said _no_.

"You don't have to."

"I know."

"I never want you to feel pressured, Claire. I'm not going to hit you or leave you or force myself on you if you say no."

"Jack, I know that. I've never felt safe like I do with you." Not even with her mother, who had told her it was just a woman's lot in life when Ian had started hitting her. "It's _why_ I want to."

He stroked her hair gently, staring into her eyes as if he could stare into her soul by doing so. "OK," he said, deciding that she was being honest with both him and herself, which was far more important than being honest with _him_.

"Your room or mine?" she asked.

"Mine. Your room used to be Steve's."

* * *

Gabrielle had had an interesting night. It had been a while since she and Steve had gone out one-on-one... actually, she couldn't remember the last time. When they had first gotten together, they had mostly stayed in – Steve preferred the cheapness of drinks at home, or the camaraderie of going out with the boys – and since he had returned to the ED, they had intentionally never gone out just the two of them. It had seemed like a good idea

She had missed spending time with him, she realised. When he had been sober, they had had some good times. They went back for as long as she could remember and they would always have that bond. When things were good, he could take her back to a time when she was sixteen and everything had been so much simpler.

And yet... it was true that you could never go back. And for all that things had been so much simpler when she had been sixteen, she wouldn't want to be in that place in her life again. She had learnt too much and though sometimes knowledge hurt, she knew she wouldn't trade the pain for what she had learnt about trust and loyalty and love.

Things Jack had taught her.

Steve took her home at the end of the night. It had been the first time that he and Gabrielle had gone out one-on-one since they had first broken up, and he had forgotten how mature she was – it had been that same maturity that had attracted her to him in the first place. She had seemed so much older than fifteen at the time, and she seemed so much older than twenty-seven now. He wondered what he had seen in Claire now. Gabrielle wasn't that much older than her, but she had a wisdom and maturity beyond her years... something that she had _always_ had.

He should never have cheated on her. He should never have walked out on her. And he had been a fool to think that Claire could measure up to her. Oh, sure, he had been fond of the girl, extremely fond of her, but just the fact that she had broken up with him there and then when he had been forced to admit that his drinking and treatment of Gabrielle during his drinking days were all true – well, that didn't show much loyalty on her part. Not loyalty like Gabrielle had in spades.

Thankgod he had come to his senses before something happened that he couldn't do anything about. Thankgod Quade had up and left, although Steve had been none too pleased to learn that he was back... at least he'd had a girlfriend... before they had broken up, at least. But he wasn't the kind of guy Gabrielle would get involved with, anyway, and hopefully he'd go back to wherever he had come from.

He saw Gabrielle to the door and followed her in before she had the chance to tell him goodnight and close the door behind her. She had enjoyed his company but she wasn't interested in continuing it until all hours of the morning, which was what Steve could do when he was sober and in a chipper mood like this. He had never been good at being alone.

To her chagrin, he followed her to her room and it seemed to her that he deliberately slipped in before she could shut the door on him. Into the house was one thing, but into her _bedroom_? Even _Jack_ paused to gauge her reaction before he entered, even if it didn't stop him from entering, and it was – or, rather, had been – his job to look after her. "I had a nice night," she said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, and leaned in to kiss her.

She pulled away awkwardly. All night, her gut had been telling her Steve was up to something, but she hadn't believed it. She hadn't seen him for over two months, he rocked up to take her out to dinner and thought that made up for everything that had happened between them in the last two years and they could pick up where they left off? "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I thought it was obvious," he said, and tried to kiss her again. She backed away. She had always kind of played hard-to-get, he remembered. It was why he had hated watching her throw herself at Jack at the wedding. OK, so she had been drunk, but she had never kissed _him_ like that before. "I don't get it," he said. "We're meant to be together. I've always been there for you."

Gabrielle stared at Steve and stifled the urge to laugh. She grasped that he was telling the truth, for all that it was his intensely distorted version of the truth, and that laughing at him would humiliate him. "You've always _been_ there for me?" she asked. "What, have you forgotten this – " she asked, gesturing to the scar on the back of her head, "or when you cheated on me or when you walked out on me and left me to do _both_ our jobs?"

"That was when I was drinking," he said sullenly, not liking to remember all the rotten things he had done to her. God, but he wished he could take it back. Girls like Ashley and Claire meant nothing to him; they hadn't been worth jeopardising his relationship with Gabrielle with. And yet he had.

"Yeah? How about your silly pissing contest with Jack? He was my best mate and you couldn't accept that maybe he could care about me without wanting to get into my bed because _you don't know what it's like to care about someone like that_. And what about Claire? You didn't have the decency to tell _either_ of us. She might have stayed with you if you had been upfront with her, you know."

"I was embarrassed to tell you both," Steve defended himself, just as sullenly.

Gabrielle thought about the honest conversations she had had with Jack, both when they had been living together but especially since he had gotten back. She remembered how he had been upfront with her when she had asked him why he had gone off the rails following his friend's death. He hadn't owed her that kind of honesty, but had given it anyway.

Suddenly it was all too much for her. "Please go," she said. "I want to be alone."

Steve knew better than to push it. He left.

* * *

Jack was without doubt the best kisser she had ever known. Granted, there hadn't been a lot, but something told him that he was up there with the best. He knew how to kiss, knew how to touch, knew how to make her feel at ease. She felt wonderful and safe and sexy and had never wanted a man like this in her life.

And yet... something was wrong, slightly off. As wonderful as it felt, it also felt slightly out of sync. Not that she knew what it was to be truly in sync with a man, but she knew that she and Jack weren't in sync. Or, rather, that _Jack_ wasn't in sync with _her_,

She would never have known that something was wrong if it hadn't been Jack himself who had put in words that unnamed feeling of something being slightly off. But when he had told her about his experience with Terri Sullivan, he had nailed it. She had felt that way with Steve and now with Jack. More so with Jack, because now she knew what that feeling was, and because Jack's feelings were so much stronger...

For a second, she thought about not saying anything and just going with the flow. Jack was clearly into her and she could do much worse than a man like him – and she should know. Then she realised that she could also do worse. She knew how it had affected Jack to be constantly aware that his feelings weren't reciprocated, and that had ground down his confidence in his ability to be loved as surely as Ian had done to hers in a different way.

Reluctantly, she pushed him away. "Stop," she said.

To his credit, Jack stopped immediately, despite the obvious desire that she could feel against her thigh. "Am I going to fast?" he asked.

She smiled at him. God, but he looked sexy and loving when he looked at her with concern like that. If only he could feel about her the way he felt about Gabrielle. "No," she said. "It's just... this isn't going to work."

"You want to slow down?" he asked. "We can date for a while, if you want."

Every fibre of her being cried out for her to say yes to that. Something told her dating Jack would be a trip. "Jack, do you remember what you were telling me about when you were with Terri Sullivan and she'd lie in your arms wishing she was with her husband?" she asked. Jack nodded reluctantly, not willing to dig up those humiliating experience. "You were doing the exact same thing then."

"I was not!" Jack said indignantly. "Terri and I were over years ago."

"I wasn't talking about Terri, Jack, I was talking about Gabrielle. It's obvious you're still in love with her."

"I am not!" he said, his eyes flashing angrily at the thought that after all she had put him through, he couldn't let go of his feelings. "Did you miss the part where she called me Steve _and gave me an STD_?"

"No, I didn't. Look, Jack, this is _me _you're talking to. I know all about loving someone who'd bad for you... and I don't think she's bad for you, certainly not as bad as you think she is. I think you're so scared of getting hurt again that you're comparing one little mistake to a whole relationship's worth of rejection. I think you still care about her, far more that you care to admit, and nothing will change that – and you know it."

For a second, he just stared at her insight, then his face fell. She was right. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

"It doesn't matter," she said, and she meant it. Jack was more sorry for using her – or trying to, anyway – to block his own hurt than Ian had been for all the things he had done to her. "I just hope we can still be friends."

"Of course," he said. "God knows, I need a mate like you to keep me in line."

"Good." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll go back to my own room now. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

In her room, Gabrielle sat on the bed, thinking Steve's words had grated on her more than she had thought possible. It wasn't just his ridiculous claims, or that he actually seemed to believe them, it was – it was –

It was that Steve, who had owed her everything, had given her nothing when she had needed it the most, and Jack, who owed her nothing, had dropped everything - his job, his girlfriend, his _life_ – and come to take care of her when she had needed him. It was that Steve had avoided her during her hospital stay and convalescence and Jack had been by her side every step of the way, pleading, cajoling, bullying, threatening, encouraging her to do what was best for her. It was that Steve had dated her subordinate without bothering to tell her and Jack had sent his girlfriend packing when he'd been forced to choose between them.

It was that Steve had always expected her to cook for him and Jack had loved someone who appreciated good food to cook for. It was that Steve, despite being highly educated, had no interest in learning and knowledge and Jack had encouraged that in her. It was that –

It was that Jack had loved her, purely and honestly, first and foremost as a friend, and drawn out her love in return, and Steve – Steve had never loved her at all, at least not by any standards that Jack had taught her to know love at.

And before she could realise where her thoughts were going and stop them, she was remembering everything she and Jack had done together, how he had made her smile and laugh and feel good about herself, how he had loved her and made her love him in return... how she had slowly fallen for him, so slowly that she didn't realise it until one day a tragedy had made her realise that he was her world.

_He was her world. And he had never stopped loving her. And she had never stopped loving him_. The three thoughts burst into the front of her brain like a runaway train. She felt back on her bed, laughing gleefully at the sudden realisation. She couldn't believe it had taken her so long to realise it. Jack wouldn't have come back if he wasn't still crazy about her – and he certainly wouldn't have stayed, given what a bitch she had been to him some days.

She got up off the bed, determined to talk to him immediately, before she lost her nerve. She dashed out of her room and made her way into the kitchen and to the other side of the house where Claire and Jack's rooms were...

... To see Claire coming out of Jack's room, buttoning her top as she went, her hair dishevelled. It was obvious what they had been up to.

Claire hadn't seen her, and Gabrielle braced herself against the kitchen wall. She had known Jack and Claire were becoming closer, but _this_... She knew she had no right to feel betrayed, she had no claim on him, but... it wasn't fair, wasn't fair that she should _finally_ work things out, and he had moved on.

She wanted to cry, by she swallowed back tears. She hadn't gone though a long and painful – and often humiliating – recovery to bawl like a baby because – how had Jack put it – the person she was in love with didn't love her back. _Not anymore_. She'd had her chance, she'd left it too long... and now she had to move on as well.

The next day she could barely look at Claire when the younger woman was fixing herself breakfast. "Something tells me you're actually _glad_ to be getting back to work," she teased. Gabrielle grunted a nonresponse, and Claire felt put out. Gabrielle should be over the moon – a full recovery (well, almost full, Frank had made it clear that no-one was, under any circumstances, to allow Gabrielle to lift anything heavier than five kilos for at least two weeks) and a possible reconciliation with Steve, and everyone knew they were the love of each other's lives. So why was she looking so upset? "Anything wrong?" she asked sweetly.

_Anything wrong?_ Gabrielle wanted to parrot in a sickeningly sweet voice. _Only that you managed to poach both Steve and Jack from right under my nose_. She knew she had no claim to either man, but she nonetheless resented Claire bitterly. And how come it hurt so much to know that Claire and Jack were sleeping together when she had been more disappointed that Steve hadn't bothered to tell her himself than hurt? "I think it's about time you started looking for your own place," she said, wanting to see the back of the younger woman.

"What?" In the six months that Claire had been staying here, Gabrielle had not once mentioned her moving out, not even a casual 'what do you plan on doing once this is all over?'. In fact, Gabrielle made it clear that she was very fond of her and enjoyed the company. So why, when everything was coming together for her, did she want her out. "Is this about Steve? Is he moving back in?" In that case, she would _definitely_ find another place. She had no intention of playing housemate to the newly reconciled couple... and something told her neither did Jack. Claire shrugged. "If that's the case, I'll ask Jack if he wants to find a place together. Something tells me he's staying in Sydney." And something told her that now she and Jack had established where they stood with each other, they would make for the best of friends and housemates.

Gabrielle wanted to cry and slap Claire. The two of them had every right to move in together, if that was what they wanted, but – _didn't take you long to find a reason to stay, did it?_ She asked Jack silently.

"What?" Claire asked, and to her mortification, Gabrielle realised that she had spoken the words out loud.

"Nothing," Gabrielle said.

Claire cocked her head, trying to read Gabrielle's thoughts. You didn't live with someone for six months without working out a little of what made them tick... and you didn't spent three emotionally intimate months with a guy like Jack without piecing together a lot of stuff about their relationship which they themselves hadn't fully realised. "Wait... you think _Jack and I_ – good Lord, where did you get that idea from?" At least it explained why Gabrielle was behaving so mean.

"You were with him last night, weren't you?" Gabrielle asked, and she couldn't have sounded more accusatory if she had been a priest confronting a prostitute.

"Oh, that," Claire said.

_Oh, that_, Gabrielle repeated in her mind. "I never knew you to treat casual sex so... casually," she said as nastily as she could manage.

If Gabrielle's jealousy wasn't so apparent, Claire would have been insulted. As it was, she could only find the misunderstanding funny... and feel sorry for Gabrielle. She must have come across her when she was leaving Jack's room, and if something – God forbid it be Steve – had made her realise that Jack was the one for her, then it would have sucked royally to come across what she had thought she had come across. "Nothing happened," she said. "I mean, I know what it looked like, but..." Claire shrugged. "I think we'd be good together, and if he thought he could talk himself into falling in love with me, I'm sure he would have done... but he's not. He never will be."

The colour drained from Gabrielle's face as she processed this information and then realised what a jealous, judgemental idiot she had been acting like. "He's not?" she repeated.

Claire looked at her. "You really don't know how he feels about you?" she asked. "How – Jesus Christ, I would _kill_ for a man who gave me half of what he's given you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I'd kill _you_ if I thought it would make Jack forget you. You'd better tell him how you feel. Look, I think I have somewhere to stay for a few days until I sort something more permanent out. In the meantime, you bloody better tell him how you feel – because you'll be an idiot if you don't, and I don't work with idiots and I certainly don't work _for_ them."

An hour and a half later, Claire was on Charlotte's doorstep. "Hi," she said shyly. "I know this is really short notice and an imposition but I need to find a new place and I need to crash somewhere in the meantime. I can help you with Zach in return," she offered.

Charlotte opened the door. Something had told her it would come to this sooner or later. "Something happen between Jack and Gabby?" she asked dryly.

"I predict that soon enough they'll be at each other's throats in one way or another," Claire said, just as dryly. "I wanted to give them some space."

Charlotte made them coffee. "I've always hoped they would sort themselves out," she said. "You could see they had something from day one, but it really got going after he came back from his breakdown."

"Really, that long ago?" Claire asked. "Hasn't she been here for, like, three years?" Charlotte nodded an affirmation. "What on earth got in the way?"

"Mostly that he's dated two ED NUMs in the past, and he got badly burned both times – particularly with Terri Sullivan." Charlotte took a sip of her coffee. "The irony always amused me. If he had known from the start that he and Terri would make much better friends than lovers, I think it would have taken him far less time to realise that he and Gabrielle would have made the best of friends and lovers. As it was, he didn't want to know Gabrielle at first and it was really only when he started working properly at the ED that they connected. And there's another irony for you – they would both _kill_ me if I said this to their faces – in fact, I believe Jack had a solid knowledge of medieval torture – but they remind me so much of Mitch and Terri, especially when they were younger. Mitch and Terri, I mean. They were these two proud, stubborn people who had this phenomenal knack of miscommunication. From start to finish, they lasted over twenty years, although they were only properly together for eighteen months of that. I could so easily see Jack and Gabrielle going down that same road of stubborn pride and miscommunication."

"Must have been frustrating," Claire said. "Not to mention all the people that got caught in the crossfire."

"You mean Rose and Malcolm or you and Steve?" Charlotte asked.

"Both, neither," she said abstractly. "Maybe this puts me in a better place than everyone else, but this whole thing has made me realise that you can't make someone love you... and that I'd rather be alone than have whatever leftover love you can manage to squeeze out of them."

Charlotte wondered how much heartache could have been spared if Mitch and Terri had realised they were meant for each other from day one. God knew, she and Malcolm had ended up pretty good friends after everything... like the pretty good friends she suspected Claire and Jack would be for a long time to come. "You're very wise," she said. Wiser that _she_ certainly had been in her twenties.

* * *

Gabrielle was in the kitchen when Jack came home. He paused for a second to watch her at work on dinner; he still wasn't over the simple pleasure of watching her up and about under her own steam. "You're looking well," he said sincerely.

"Thanks," she said. "What have you been up to today?"

"Mostly Frank trying to convince me to take my old job back," Jack said. "Apparently he convinced admin to give him the money _if_ he could get a doctor who already knew his way around that particular ED. Something tells me he'd been working on them ever since a little birdie told him I wasn't gong back to the community."

"You're not?" Gabrielle asked, hopeful.

Jack shook his head. "Talia won't take me back – to be honest, I don't want her to – and it's not fair to ask for my old position back when it _is_ her community. Whatever her faults, she belongs to that place and it belongs to her. But our boss will give me a glowing review if I want to do that kind of work anywhere else in the country."

"_If_?" Gabrielle asked, sending an emphasis on the word.

"I left here in such a hurry that I didn't stop to think about what I'd miss. But being back here, all my friends, Rebecca, this city. I'm a Sydney boy, always will be. But I don't think I want to work at All Saints again. The idea of replacing Steve yet again – Zoe's offered me a position in _her_ ED." It was a better position, too, although he hadn't told Frank or Gabrielle that. It was effectively Zoe's position at All Saints, as her unofficial 2IC, with her approval for the next Emergency Fellowship that came up.

"You were never Steve's replacement, Jack," Gabrielle said in a small voice. It saddened her that he still thought about it like that, even as a joke.

"Sorry?"

"You were... never... Steve's replacement," she said, finding herself tripping over the words now that she had to say them. "You were always... _you_. You were always _wanted _for yourself. _I_ always wanted you for _you_, Jack Quade, who made me laugh and encouraged me to learn and loved me and kept loving me even when I didn't deserve it and was there for me when I especially didn't deserve it... I loved you for a long time, Jack, I was just scared to love anyone and it took losing Erica for me to realise except I said this stupid thing that I didn't mean, it was just some dumb habit and..." she was crying now, wishing for Jack's support, but Jack just watched her intently, willing her to say the words without his encouragement. It was the one time when she would have to do it alone. "I cried myself to sleep for two weeks and when you told me you had Chlamydia... I thought I would never hurt as much as I did when I found out about Steve and Ashley... but I found myself hurting so much more for _you_ and... if there was any way I could gave taken it back, anything I could have done, I would have, because it was this stupid thing that I didn't mean and I never stopped missing you or loving you or – "

Jack silenced her with a crushing kiss, pushing her against the counter. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, running her fingers through his hair, pulling hard, making up for nine miserable months when she thought she would never get to kiss him again. "Jack," she moaned against him in a way that left him in no doubt that it came from a place of pure love and raw desire. "Jack, Jack, Jackjackjack... _ow!_"

He had pushed her hard against the counter and pushed his own body just as hard against her until he applied too much pressure on her healing ribs. He pulled away and smiled guiltily. "Sorry," he said. "I forgot." He gently pushed against her ribs until he had established that he hadn't done any more damage. "I think we had better take things slow," he suggested.

"If it's better for you," she said.

He smiled and his eyes danced in that blue-grey way they did when he was happy. "No, I just think your dad will kill me if I delay your recovery."

"My dad will happily see me with a few more broken ribs if it means seeing us together," Gabrielle pointed out, matching his smile with one of her own. "But, listen, I had a thorough check-up done – tested for every STD I could think of – but I'll get another battery done if you want."

"Did you sleep with anyone since me?" he asked.

"No."

"Then I trust you." He trusted her, he appreciated that she was willing to put herself through another battery of tests for him... and, juvenile as it was, he liked the fact that she hadn't slept with Steve Taylor in the interim. He picked her up gently and spun her around the way he used to, and she cried out in glee.

"I've missed you," she said when he put her down.

"I've missed you, too."


End file.
